


Benign

by usedupshiver



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (at least queer in the original meaning of the word), Consentacles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Gen, Hydra are dicks, Masturbation, Queerplatonic Relationships, Tentacle Fluff, Tentacle Monsters, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-03 19:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedupshiver/pseuds/usedupshiver
Summary: Having a Hydra-made tentacle monster on the loose in Avengers Tower should not be quite this... cuddly?





	1. Chapter 1

The Avengers had salvaged a whole row of cryo chambers from the latest Hydra compound they had dismantled. Five of them were very clearly made for human inhabitants, though they had – fucking thankfully – been empty. The sixth was very much not empty, and also very much not intended for a human. It was about ten feet by eight feet, reached Tony almost to chest level, and it had taken quite some work to get it out of the compound and into the Tower, but here it was now, slowly being thawed out.

All Tony's scans had indicated that it held something biological, but the chamber's lining was throwing the readings off too much to tell what kind of creature was in there, so the chamber was securely locked inside an old, Hulk-proof cell, too. Couldn't have whatever was in there run rampant the moment it woke back up.

At least, that was the plan.

Of course, things rapidly went to shit once the thing in cryo ventured out into the world.

Tony woke up after about two hours worth of exhausted sleep, at 3.30 am, when JARVIS sounded an alarm for the level where the chamber was kept. He startled with a yelp, bleary and confused, and ungracefully flailed free of the covers, almost rolling out of bed.

”Whassat?”

”The creature has woken up, left the cryo chamber, and escaped from the cell.”

Suddenly, Tony was _very_ awake. ”What?! Why didn't you alert me sooner?”

”The escape happend in about 16.5 seconds, sir. There was nothing you could have done.”

”Sixteen point...? How did it...? Show me!”

A screen blinked to life in front of him, projected on the bedroom wall, large enough to show in clear detail how the hatch on top of the cryo chamber was effortlessly pushed open from the inside. Something dark was visible in the slim opening, as whatever it was apparently examined its surroundings for a little while. Then the hatch was pushed all the way open, slamming to the side as some sort of huge, dark gray... blob slithered out, across the floor, and then _up the wall_. It headed straight for the covering of the ventilation, what looked like tentacles slipped into the cracks around it, tugged it free, and bared the steel grating behind. Those bars were only about two inches apart, but that apparently made no difference to the creature, because its tentacles immediately slipped through the bars, quickly followed by the rest of its body, which actually looked like mostly tentacles now, and seemed almost liquid as it slipped through, into the ventilation, and was gone.

”What the fuck was that?” Tony stared at the recording of the now empty cell. ”Shit. Where is it now?”

”Unfortunately I can't tell”, JARVIS informed him. ”It seems it wasn't the chamber that was keeping me from scanning it, but some property of the creature itself. So far it hasn't shown up on any surveillance cameras, so we must assume it is still in the vents, unless it has managed to leave the Tower entirely.”

And fuck, wouldn't that be just the icing on this mess of a cake?

”Okay, alert the team, we need to find it. ASAP.”

Not surprisingly, they didn't find it.

Including the penthouse and the vast basement level beneath, the Tower was 96 floors. The ventilation and other pipes connecting all of it was a sprawling, almost endlessly large system that had no visual surveillance, and even after Tony sent a small host of drones into the vents, pinpointing the creature's location turned out to be impossible.

At least three of the drones did run into it, though, sending back confusing images of dark gray flurries of motion before they were squashed like bugs. So it was still in the Tower. Which was good. But there was no way of knowing where it was. Which was terribly bad.

Still on high alert, they finally had to admit temporary defeat, and retreat for some food and rest.

Tony had been asleep for an impressive five hours this time, when he was woken up by JARVIS again. Only now, it wasn't with an urgent alarm, but a soft, careful verbal prodding.

”Sir? I believe it would be wise to wake up right now.”

Tony blinked into the darkness of his room. ”What's wrong?”

”The creature has left the ventilation system.”

That sounded ominous. Tony swallowed. ”And?”

JARVIS hesitated a moment. ”And it is currently hidden under your bed, sir.”

Tony felt himself give a hitching gasp, tensing up under the covers.

”I would advise against sudden sounds or movements”, JARVIS continued, sounding thoroughly unhappy with the situation and his own advice. ”I will alert the Avengers.”

”Yeah”, Tony murmured, as his fingers clenched around his sheet, ”that sounds like a good idea. Do that. I'll just... stay right here.”

A heavy, tense silence fell over the bedroom. Alone, stiff as a board, Tony stared into the dark, not able to do anything but wait. He could call the suit, but it wouldn't get there faster than the team. And he was pretty sure it counted as a 'sudden movement' anyway. Considering how quickly the creature was able to get around, Tony had to agree with JARVIS that it probably wasn't a good idea.

Just a moment later, though, he was seriously reconsidering this decision. Because that's when he felt something move into the bed. He tensed up so hard it hurt as he felt the covers shift a bit, heard the faint sound of something sliding across the sheets, and then there it came. The soft, barely there, strangely hesitant touch of what had to be one of the creature's tentacles against his ankle. His heart was beating frantically, erratically, as the tentacle slid over the soft, hairless skin just at the knobbly bones where leg turned to foot.

The tentacle was surprisingly smooth. Tony had expected something cold and slimy, but it was about the same temperature as his own skin, just a little bit cooler, and felt satiny-soft, nearly no friction at all as it was sliding across his foot, slowly wrapping itself all around it, experimentally stroking his lower leg.

It tickled at the hairs there, which made Tony's leg give a tiny, reflexive twitch, against his will. The little jerking motion made the tentacle tense up around his foot, and for a moment Tony imagined it squeezing down, crushing every delicate little bone in there, and he couldn't _breathe_ this was how he'd die but... it never happened. The tentacle just froze for a few seconds, and then it retracted, let go, slipped out from between the sheets in a much faster movement than it had slipper in under them, and was gone.

A faint, slithering noise made Tony certain that the creature had left its hiding place under the bed, and the room as well, but he still stayed put, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow down, until the team came to help.

Though their 'help' ended up meaning they checked under his bed, like the parents of a scared, too-imaginative kid, found nothing, and Steve having to actually support Tony as he got out of bed because his legs were like jelly after the rush of adrenaline. When he told them the direction he'd heard the creature slither off, they could see that it had gotten back into a vent, and so there was no use looking for it in Tony's rooms.

Steve decided he and his shield were still spending the rest of the night out on Tony's couch, and Tony was too shaken up to object, so he just wobbled into the bathroom before trying for some more sleep.

At least there were no marks on his ankle. That was something to be relieved about.

* * *

The hunt for the creature in the vents remained unsuccessful, and Tony couldn't even feel surprised when JARVIS woke him up again two days later, and it was back to hiding under his bed.

But this time, he didn't let JARVIS call the team.

”I want to see what it does”, he murmured into his pillow, where he was sprawled out on his front.

He could practically hear the dubious disapproval in the silence that followed, but Tony didn't care.

Hunting the thing had been a complete fail so far. Perhaps finding out what it wanted would be a better way to go about it.

It wasn't long before the carefully exploring tentacle was back in his bed. This time it felt for Tony's foot again, but it didn't wrap around it. Instead it wound its way up along the outside of Tony's leg, sliding softly against the length of it until it reached the hem on the leg of his boxers. There it abruptly stopped, hisitantly explored the new texture it had encountered, and then patted its way up Tony's hip, to his waist, where it seemed to flatten out and widen, stroking Tony's skin, like it was happy to be back to that, after having the cloth between them.

Tony had to struggle to stay still, but he wasn't quite as stiff and terrified. A measure of curiosity and fascination had started to slip into the cracks of what had been solid horror before. Because it didn't feel like the creature was out to hurt him, at all. If anything, it seemed curious, too.

The exploring tentacle reached as high as the middle of Tony's back, rubbing gently between his shoulder blades when it felt the muscles there move as Tony shifted slightly in bed, unable to stay completely still. It didn't seem to startle, at least. But with one last long, languid stroke along the curve and dip of his spine on the way back down, the tentacle once more retreated, slipped out of his bed, and was gone.

After staying still for a while, making sure he was alone, Tony turned on the lights, and went into the bathroom. The mirror showed him what he'd already known it would - that his skin was dry, unmarked, and unbroken.

He told JARVIS to stand down, that there was no reason to involve the team, and got back into bed.

Tony still spent an hour staring up at the dark ceiling and thinking about his visitor. Why had the creature decided to come to him, of all people? What did it want from him? He frowned, rubbing a hand over his scarred sternum. By the feel of it, the creature just wanted to... touch him? That seemed weird, but so far it was all it had done, and very gently, at that. Tony couldn't even say anything but that it had felt, well, sort of nice?

He didn't have much in the way of touching in his own life, and some days he missed any skin on skin contact with a fierceness that made him want to break down in tears. So he couldn't really blame the creature, if it felt sort of the same.

Tony couldn't imagine that Hydra were big on hugs.

Maybe it was just... touch-starved?

After all, since escaping from cryo it had done absolutely nothing to wreak havoc and destruction on the Tower from the inside, even though it most certainly could have done massive damage by now. It hadn't even showed itself to anyone, much less gone on the attack. Tony was the only one it had laid a tentacle on, so far, and that didn't at all qualify as an attack, either.

Tony fell asleep certain that the creature wasn't an enemy. Though he still had no idea what it actually was, if that wasn't it.

* * *

They all found out the next day, when Bruce called for a team meeting. He had been busy working at Hydra's files, while the rest of them had been uselessly creature-hunting.

”Steve, you might want to sit down for this one”, Bruce started the meeting.

Steve frowned at him. ”What's going on?” He made no move to sit, even though the rest of the team were already seated around the conference table in the room where they usually met pre and post missions.

Bruce sighed, shrugged, and gave up. ”All right, there is no painless way to say this, so, here's the deal.” He still clasped and unclasped his hands a couple times on the table before he spoke up, all of them watching him warily. ”The creature we brought back, that's what was... or, is... or, what's left of...” He swallowed. ”Of James Barnes.”

Steve's face went so white Tony actually thought he was going to pass out. But then he took an unsteady side-step and finally sank down into a chair.

”Hydra found him after he fell from the train, and they tried to bring him back to life, but he was already gone.” Bruce spoke at a steady pace, probably trying to get it all over and done with. Drawing it out would just make it worse. ”They used stem cells, mixed his DNA up with anything they could find, and from what I can tell, they were trying to create an _actual_ hydra, to fight for them. The specimen we found was the only one that survived.”

”Well”, Tony muttered, ”Close enough, considering their not-an-actual-hydra symbol.”

Natasha kicked his shin under the table.

”As we've seen, it's fast, strong, and can get in and out of anywhere. And it's smart enough to understand and follow orders. So they decided to add it to their roster of brain-washed assassins. The problem is just that... well.” Bruce gave an awkward shrug. ”It doesn't actually _have_ a brain. As such. Or any organs, really. So whatever they were doing to their human test subjects, it didn't work with this creature. And whatever it's made up of, there was maybe enough of Barnes left in there that it decided that it wanted none of their orders, and proceded to make life hell for them, until they could get it into cryo by force.” He looked up from his hands and right at Cap. ”It's been in there almost as long as you were in the ocean, Steve.”

Running a shaking hand over his mouth, Steve nodded. His eyes were wide and wet. ”Why...” He had to clear his throat and try again. ”Why didn't he come find me?”

 _Why go to Tony and not me?_ , was no doubt the question he didn't ask.

Bruce had apparently also heard it, though, because he glanced at Tony before he answered. ”At this stage, without getting a chance at a closer examination, we can't know if there is anything more of Barnes in there, than a partial genetic match. It might not remember you. It might not remember it used to be human, even.” He looked at Tony again, and gestured vaguely in his direction. ”The theory I'm working with, is that since Tony's scent would have been the only one to pick up in the cell where it woke up, it searched Tony's rooms out via the vents.”

Tony blinked. ”You... uh... you're saying it... imprinted on me?”

A corner of Bruce's mouth actually ticked up a hint. ”In a way, yes. Your scent was the only familiar thing for it, so it went to find you.”

Tony wasn't sure what to think of that.

Steve's drawn face gave a clue that he wasn't a fan of the idea, though.

* * *

The creature that might once have been Bucky Barnes visited again the next night, under the cover of darkness once more.

This time, it was a bit more daring, and reached two tentacles up into Tony's bed. One explored his feet and legs, keeping the touches firm enough now that they didn't tickle unbearably. The other started at the waistline of his boxers and worked up along his back, to his shoulders. It stayed clear of the area covered by his boxers entirely. It really seemed to take issue with clothing.

Tony, spread out on his front again, stayed still and let it feel around as long as it wanted. Actually, he felt himself relax more and more as the minutes of tentative stroking and rubbing went on. It felt entirely non-threatening, and quite soothing, to be honest.

After a while, his legs were almost entirely wound up in soft, slowly undulating tentacle. Its tip was playing with his toes, poking between them and exploring their different sizes. The second tentacle carefully felt its way down his arm, caressed the sensitive skin at the interior bend of his elbow, stroked down his wrist. And then it curiously wriggled its way under the pads of Tony's fingers, which were relaxed and curved gently toward his palm.

He wasn't sure if it was a reflex, or his own curiosity, that made Tony slowly close his fingers around the tentacle in his hand, just as gently as it touched him. It felt even smoother against his fingertips, and it didn't feel like touching a human, or even like touching a snake, which would have been his first guess considering the shape. There didn't seem to be muscle beneath the silky skin, just something soft that yielded to his touch, far more malleable than flesh.

It froze up and tensed in his grip, just as it had when Tony's leg moved that first time, and he suspected that its next move would be to disengage.

”Hey”, Tony murmured, and felt the whole length of both tentacles go completely still against him. ”It's all right.” Bruce had said it was intelligent, so there was a chance it could understand him. Either way, Tony tried to keep his voice steady, soothing. ”You don't have to leave. You can stay. I don't mind at all.”

As he said it, Tony realized it was completely true. He didn't mind. And while he spoke, he noticed how the pad of his thumb was slowly, almost affectionately, rubbing tiny circles against the smooth skin of the tentacle he was barely holding.

Gradually, a few inches at a time, the tentacles softened and relaxed around him again. The one around his legs stayed there, a heavy comfort. The tip of the other one, the length of it resting along his back and arm, slowly wound around his palm entirely, until they were effectively holding hands.

”There you go”, Tony praised, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. ”We're good.”

He was just starting to drift off into sleep properly when a third tentacle joined him in the bed, curved around his shoulder, slid up the back of his neck, and awkwardly patted his hair. Like it was praising him right back.

Tony fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

”Sir?” The warning tone in JARVIS's voice would have startled Tony out of the movie he was watching in his livingroom a couple nights later, if it wasn't for the fact that he had already noticed that he wasn't alone in the room anymore.

”Yeah”, he muttered under his breath, ”I know.”

Without moving his head too much, Tony rolled his eyes hard up and to the right. So much it almost hurt. The room was dimly lit, mostly from the TV screen, but it was more than enough for Tony to see the outline of his guest against the white paint of his walls.

The creature had slipped out of the vents, and was curled up hanging in the corner. It was mostly a gray, shapeless mass, the tapered ends of countless tentacles plastering it to the ceiling and walls somehow. An unmoving, dark entity with far too much body to be a shadow. It should have been ominous, terrifying, to come to the realization that something like that was hanging more or less over his head, but Tony couldn't quite feel threatened anymore.

Since he was now pretty sure that the creature understood English, Tony suspected that it knew it was busted. But it stayed still for a long time, even so.

When it finally did start to move, it inched its way diagonally down the wall from the corner, toward the couch. Moving made the tentacles longer, thicker, and in turn the creature's body got smaller. It seemed like whatever it was made up of under the slate-gray skin had no real structure. It shifted around like the thing was filled with soft clay. Which was sort of what it had felt like when Tony had touched it, actually. There were no muscles, no bones, not even really any organs, according to Bruce. Just a mass of... something.

Tony lost sight of it when it disappeared behind the couch, squeezed in between the wall and the back of the seats. There was just the soft noise of its smooth skin sliding against the two surfaces. He swallowed and stared straight ahead at the TV screen again, though he didn't see what was playing out there anymore. It could have been anything at this point. All he was aware of, was the slip and slide of tentacles behind his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw when one of them emerged. It undulated its way over the back of the couch by Tony's side, pressed against the bare skin of his arm on the way down. He was getting used to the smooth, soft touch by now and didn't flinch or tense up. But he did wait to see what it would do now that he, for the first time, wasn't in bed and mostly undressed.

The tentacle, long and limber and about the same thickness as Tony's forearm, until it tapered off at the end, had reached Tony's hip now. It patted the course fabric of his jeans and drew back at once, coiling and uncoiling on itself, as if it wanted to rub away the sensation of the unpleasant texture. It wasn't the first time Tony had noticed its thorough dislike for touching his clothes, but it was the first time he'd actually seen the reaction play out.

It made his next decision strangely easy.

He moved his hand, the one on the opposite side of the tentacle, and pinched the front of his t-shirt between thumb and index finger, pulling it away from his stomach. That left a gap in his coverage between the low waist of his jeans, and the hem of his t-shirt.

Hovering in the air by his side, the tentacle seemed to hesitate, maybe sensing his movements and trying to figure out what it meant. Then it got with the program, and slipped its way into the offered opening. It flattened out noticeably when it touched Tony's warm skin, shivering a little in obvious delight, and then quickly snaked its way up his abdomen, to his chest.

”There you go”, Tony said with a smile.

The tentacle hesitated at the sound of his voice. Or maybe the vibrations of it in his chest. But only for a brief moment. Then it seemed to be properly encouraged by the words, and the tentacle started to curiously explore the mass of scar tissue over Tony's sternum. He'd been on his front in bed the previous times the creature had touched him, so this was its first encounter with the remains of Tony's arc reactor. It could have been terrifying, but the touch was so gentle and careful, Tony instead found himself starting to relax back into the cushions.

In fact he was so distracted by the caresses over the partially numb, partially over-sensitive scarring, that he didn't notice when more tentacles joined the party. And when he did, he just made a soft, surprised little noise in the back of his throat and then... let himself enjoy it.

At least two more tentacles joined the first under his t-shirt. It was hard to tell, with the writhing, soft, indistinct movements and touches, how many they really were. But he felt one wrap around his waist, spiralling its way around him into a proper hug, as another one stroked its way to his clavicles, up his neck, and then started exploring his face with a slim, dextrous tip. It felt the softness of his lip, twitched away from the roughness of his stubbled jaw, and wound its way up his nose, along the arch of his eyebrow, caressed his crow's feet, and wriggled into the hair at his temple.

Tony, eyes closed under the touches to his face, smiled, and let himself melt a little.

More tentacles had wrapped around his arms, slipped between his fingers to hold his hands, snaked their way into the short sleeves to tickle his armpits, coil around his shoulders. He was held snugly but gently all over his upper body by now, pushed against the back of the seat, and the satiny-smooth feel of it was somehow incredibly comforting. Nothing – no one – had touched him this much in absolute _ages_ and it was so, so _good_.

Something in his chest felt like it lurched sideways, his throat tighetend painfully, but he wasn't aware that he was crying until a tentacle tip curiously wiped at the wetness running down the side of his nose. And paused.

The whole creatured shivered faintly this time, and the fattest tentacle, the one around Tony's midriff, tightened slightly.

Tony couldn't explain how, but he knew it was a question.

”I'm fine”, he said. His voice came out thick and a little strangled, though, so he backed it up with a squeeze around the tentacle wrapped up in his right palm. It flattened under the pads of his fingers, and then puffed itself fat again when he let up. ”This is nice.” This time his words slipped into a deeper, pleasant register.

Again, the tentacles holding him shivered, this reaction stronger and more confident, somehow, and then the two of them just stayed like that.

The movie ended and another started and somewhere along the way Tony started watching again, lost in some kind of mindless action plot. He was distantly aware that he was slowly, affectionately stroking his palm back and forth over the thick tentacle resting heavy and relaxed over his belly, but it just felt good, and right, and very soothing.

A little later a movement made him glance to the side, and Tony realized that the bulk of what could be considered the creature's 'body' was now resting on the back of the couch beside Tony's head. Tentacles draped down along the cushions, hanging motionless and at peace.

As Tony watched, curious, there was another movement in the gray mass, and then, slowly, a slit in the soft surface, which Tony hadn't even noticed until now, slid open to reveal an eye. It was huge, lidded in hairless folds of gray skin, but somehow it was also very, very human, with a blue-gray iris, surrounded by white, and a pupil narrowing down even in the faint light off the TV, to fix on Tony's face.

”So, I guess we're having a movie night, huh?”

Another eye opened beside the first. And then they both blinked at him, slow and friendly, like a cat showing it likes you. Something about the relaxed way they narrowed looked a bit like the creature was smiling, mouthlessly.

”Yeah”, Tony smiled back. ”I like you, too.”

He fell asleep before the movie ended, still wrapped safely in yards and yards of tentacles.

When he woke up in the morning he first thought they were gone, the creature up and left for the vents again. But then he noticed that where he was stretched out on his front along the seats, one of his arms was hanging off the edge, and a single, slim tentacle was reaching out from under the couch, wrapped between his fingers, up his wrist, holding on.

* * *

Maybe it should have been strange, how easy it was to make room for a tentacle monster in his life, but Tony found that he just didn't care if it was.

The creature had taken an obvious liking to him, and it wasn't long before it dared to come out in the daylight as well, though only when they were alone together. It stayed clear of the rest of the team, still, but it was only a few days before it came to join Tony as he worked in the 'shop.

It helped Tony's peace of mind that the 'bots seemed to accept the creature almost at once. Watching the cautious introductions had been the most fun Tony'd had in a long time. The creature had sucked itself flat to the ceiling and dropped down one, single tentacle to warily pat at DUM-E and U as they curiously reached up their grasping claws, to watch it in turn.

Once it had decided that the 'bots weren't a threat, the creature had explored the rest of the workshop, and then came to cling to the table where Tony was designing a new, improved armour for Steve. One of those huge, steel-blue eyes peeked over the edge of the table, watching the holographic displays, and then a thin, hesitant tentacle slipped over the edge too, and reached out. The tip, slimmer than one of Tony's fingers, hovered in the air a moment, and then poked the white star at the center of Cap's chest. At the touch, that part of the design blew up large on the screen, and the tentacle jerked back a few inches, the creature's eye wide and startled.

”It's ok”, Tony soothed. ”It does that so I can get a better view of the details. See?” He poked the tip of his own finger to one of the side panels on the armour, and that one layered itself on top, another zoomed in view of the construction revealed.

Immediately the creature's tentacle flared out wide and flat, wriggling in the air in what could have been excitement, and it went back to watching Tony work for a while.

Then, while typing out a note for improvements to the flexibility on the fabrics, Tony had an idea. He blinked at the interface, considered, and then shrugged. He minimized the whole project into a corner, and pulled up a screen that was just a keyboard made of blue light. Then he touched the corners of it, drew them to the sides, and suddenly the keys were huge.

He glanced down, and found two large eyes already watching him.

”I know you understand what I'm saying.” Tony gestured to the glowing letters. ”But maybe you want to talk back?”

The creature eyed the keys, and then reached its tentacle back out. It hesitated, blinked a few times, and made a decision. The slim tip tapped on the Y, the E, and then the S, in rapid succession, the resulting word hovering above the keyboard for a drawn out moment.

”Oh wow you can actually write”, Tony breathed out in a fascinated rush. ”Holy shit that's awesome.”

The tentacle swayed in the air in a smugly gleeful little dance, blue-gray eyes narrow and smiling again.

”Okay then, smartass.” Tony grinned at it. ”How about you tell me your name?”

With a flourish and a flick in his direction, something that Tony suspected was tentacle for _'challenge accepted'_ , the creature reached for the keys again, and without any hesitation started spelling out a new word.

B-U-C-K-Y

And just like that, Tony knew he couldn't keep thinking about his new friend as _'it'_ or _'the creature' _.__

__He wasn't human anymore, but he was obviously still a person, with a name._ _

__”Hey there, Bucky”, Tony said, and turned his chair enough that he could reach his right hand out for a shake. ”It's nice to meet you.” And then, because he suddenly realized Bucky might not actually know, he added, ”I'm Tony Stark.”_ _

__Bucky's huge eyes blinked at him. Then he reached out a tentacle, the first one still hovering by the keyboard. He flattened just the tip of the tentacle, until it was nearly the size and shape of a hand, although without any fingers or a thumb, and wrapped it around Tony's hand. He gave it a firm squeeze and a shake, and at the same time, his other tentacle tapped out a response._ _

__NICE TO BE MET_ _

__And Tony could just bet that it was._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so since this story has gotten so much love (seriously thank you guys I'm so moved you have no idea), it will get (at least) one other chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first of all, I can't thank you guys enough. I'm blown away by the support for the first chapter. You have no idea. Thank you. Without that support, this second chapter wouldn't have happened.
> 
> Second of all, all y'all should go check out [the AMAZING fanart for chapter one](http://usedupshiver.tumblr.com/post/163207478607/massivespacewren-for-usedupshivers-cute-fanfic), because it is lovely. And leave the artist some love! They did a Good™.
> 
> Third and last, have some more tentacle monster Bucky shenanigans.

There were two places in the Tower Bucky liked - Tony's rooms, and Tony's workshop.

The main reason was obvious; Tony was in one of them almost all the time. His voice and his scent and his warmth were all over everything in both spaces, and Bucky was free to roam wherever he wanted, with the added bonus that he could reach out and touch Tony, almost whenever he wanted. He liked that. A lot. He wasn't sure of exactly why, but it settled him.

So there was the warmth and the kindness and the softness he could find in those places, when he needed it. And there was the sense of safety, and ease. 

With Hydra, there had been none of those things, ever. There, everything had been cold and hard. Not just the spaces, but the people, their words, their actions. The very air in the base had been hostile. There was nowhere safe to hide. He never knew who would show up, or what they would try to do to him.

Tony wasn't like Hydra.

He didn't smell of malice and chemicals, but of metal and electricity and curiosity and smiles. He was warmth instead of cold, softness instead of hard rejection, and he had given Bucky words, instead of orders.

But Bucky also liked that there was never anyone else in those spaces. Yes, there was the voice from the spaces themselves, JARVIS, and there were the two robots he liked to play with in the workshop, but no other humans showed up. He guessed they could, if Tony allowed it, but so far they had been left alone.

Today, though, they weren't in either of those places. Today, Tony had talked him into visiting the laboratory that belonged to someone Tony called Bruce. Someone who Bucky didn't think was human, either. He smelled of heat and radiation and vibrated with something right under the surface that Bucky could almost feel ripple over his own skin, and he was strange and faintly unsettling, but Tony stayed calm and trusting, so Bucky tried to do the same. And if he had gotten through the introductions while tightly bundled up and partly hidden behind Tony's legs, one tentacle reaching up to hold onto Tony's thumb, then so what? He had deserved some awkward shyness, thank you very much.

They'd wanted to examine him.

He didn't like that. Bucky had too many bad memories of science. But he tried to understand.

"We need to know how you work, so we can keep you healthy, and safe, and happy." Tony had been stroking him all through the explanation, and that had helped, a lot. "Also, we're pretty damn curious about you, but we're never going to hurt you. Or do anything you don't want. You can say no. And you can tap out anytime you change your mind."

The fact that he actually _could_ speak his mind these days helped him decide to say yes. And knowing he could tap out made it easier to climb up onto the examination table in the lab and allow Bruce and Tony to poke and prod and scan and measure and chatter.

They had agreed on tapping out as their non-verbal 'safeword', as Tony had called it. It went both ways. If either did something the other didn't like, three quick taps on a body part, or a hard surface, meant to stop.

Neither Bucky or Tony had felt the need to use it, but knowing consent was a thing that mattered still made a world of difference.

After a little while of being fussed over, Bucky decided this was interesting. It didn't hurt at all. And he was learning things about himself, too. Hydra had never told him anything, except what to do.

Now he found out that he weighed a lot less than his size indicated. That even though he had no brain, or other organs, all of his individual cells seemed to work a little like brain cells, controlling the way his mass could move around inside him at will. As well as processing the information from his gigantic skin and many, many senses. 

"Okay so that's why his eyes are almost always closed? He doesn't need them?" Tony had tried to ask him about that, before, but Bucky hadn't really been able to explain. 

Humans were so visually focused. How to explain that he 'saw' everything he needed without his visual sense, to a creature so dependent on its eyes? For Bucky, vision was mostly uninteresting. He knew the shape, size, movement, texture, density, smell, and temperature of anything around him, without seeing it. Opening his eyes only added light and colour.

"Seems like it", Bruce confirmed.

Bucky, sprawled out on the table, tentacle ends hanging off the edges on all sides, relaxed a little more.

"So I've tried to figure out what he eats, but no luck so far." Tony sounded worried.

Bucky flicked a dangling tentacle up and wrapped the tip around his little finger.

"Mhmm, well, he doesn't."

"Wait what?"

"He doesn't eat. Or drink. Or sleep. As far as I can tell."

"But... but he generates body heat?"

"Yes."

"And he moves around, a lot, and constantly processes ridiculous amounts of input. Spends energy left and right. All the time. But he doesn't _eat or sleep_?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Tony."

"But that's impossible! He's breaking the laws of thermodynamics by just... existing!"

Bucky thought that sounded bad. He didn't know what it meant, but breaking laws wasn't good, right? He couldn't quite feel worried, though, because Tony had sounded _excited_ when he said it.

"Basically, yes." Bruce sounded amused, and a little awed, too, under the surface.

Bucky tugged on Tony's pinky.

"What, oh, yeah, sorry. We're kinda talking about you like you're not even here, aren't we?" Tony smiled, and wound the tentacle up in his hand to squeeze it gently. "My bad."

Basking in the direct attention, Bucky rippled a little around his hand, and ended on a squeeze in return. A wordless _'what's going on?'_ that Tony had seemed to intuitively understand since the beginning.

"It's fine, Buck. You're just a lot more special than I thought. Impossible, actually, accordning to the laws of the universe as we know them."

Though on some deep, existential level, Bucky had known he was an anomaly, a crime against nature, something that just shouldn't be, Tony somehow made being utterly impossible sound like it was a good thing.

Bucky shuddered happily at the sense of acceptance, his tentacles flaring flat with pleasure.

"Yeah", Tony chuckled, amused now, "trust me, you fit right in around here."

* * *

One afternoon a few days later, Tony called him over to the old, battered and oil-smelling couch in the workshop. Bucky slithered over from where he had been lazily playing fetch with U using a tiny wrench, and in moments was securely wrapped around Tony on the seats, three tentacles sneaking in under his heavy workshop clothes, to reach skin.

Bucky still didn't like cloth. It was dead texture getting in the way of living touch, and the feel of it set his nerves on edge, but he was slowly getting used to it. As long as at least a little of him touched bare, soft, warm skin, he could deal.

Tony never seemed bothered. And the way his hands settled on Bucky's tentacles to soothingly stroke along Bucky's own skin only helped.

"So here's the deal, Limbs."

Tony had all sorts of nicknames for him. Bucky didn't mind, even though most of them were ridiculous. He thought it meant affection. A little like how, in Bucky's own mind, Tony wasn't always his name, but was a complex identity made up of sensory impressions. Most often he was simply Touch, because that's what meant the most to Bucky, but sometimes he was Burned Circuits, or Cold Feet. So if Tony wanted to call him Limbs, Cuddles, Cling Wrap, or whatever, it was something he thought he could understand and even appreciate.

"I have a friend coming to visit", Tony went on. "Someone you haven't met before. And I sort of need him to come here, to the 'shop, because he has equipment to try out. You okay with that?"

Bucky stilled as he thought about it, pressed close to Tony's warmth. Someone he hadn't met meant it couldn't be Steve, and that was who he really wasn't comfortable meeting yet. And 'a friend' sounded like someone Tony trusted, so they shouldn't be a threat to either of them. Though Bucky also trusted his own ability to neutralize any sort of enemy that might come close. He didn't enjoy violence, but he knew he was capable of devastating destruction when provoked or cornered. Hydra had known, too. Which was why they had forced him down into the cold.

So in the end, Bucky let himself go soft, and relaxed, and patted gently against Tony's ribs in agreement.

"Awesome!" Tony's whole body _beamed_ with pleased joy, and Bucky was immediately happy about his decision.

When the visitor arrived, Bucky still opted to hide a little. It was mostly just habit at this point, so he didn't even do a very good job of it. He just climbed up into a shadowy corner, half of him obscured from view by some robotic contraption hanging from the ceiling, suspending parts of a metal suit of armour. Anyone who looked for him would still see him, but he wouldn't stand out, and hopefully not seem threatening himself.

This friend of Tony's wasn't exactly what Bucky had expected from the rest of the team living in the Tower. It was just a small, slim boy in casual clothes, a backpack over his shoulder. Bucky briefly slitted one eye open just to get the full impression, and decided that with the messy, brown hair and big, brown eyes, the kid almost looked a little like Tony. He moved differently, though. Quicker and stronger and his mind flitting everywhere, and those eyes, too. So it was just a moment before they fixed on Bucky in his corner, and grew even wider.

"Whoa", the boy breathed, mouth going wide too, in an intrigued grin. "That's awesome!" He even sounded a bit like Tony. Both in word choice, and the tone of fearless fascination.

"And I thought you were here to see me", Tony called out from his work station. "Rude, kid. Very rude. I should give these boots to some other Spiderling in need. Someone who appreciates me and my efforts. You know anyone? Give them my number."

"Sorry, Mr. Stark." The boy didn't take his eyes off Bucky, while he effortlessly wound his way through the workshop even without seeing where he was going. "New boots are great. I just." He stopped as he gently bounced against the edge of Tony's table.

"Yeah, yeah, I shouldn't expect to compete with Bucky." Tony threw a grin over his shoulder, and feeling it aimed in his direction made Bucky flare and ripple happily. "Come on, Pete, boots first, then maybe he'll come down to say hi."

That kicked the boy into action, and he turned to smile at Tony, at last. He dumped his heavy backpack on the floor under the table, and did a shy-looking side step to offer up a slightly awkward hug. One Tony happily accepted, and turned a lot less awkard by sliding to his feet and wrapping the boy up tight.

"You doing okay, kid?"

"Yeah, fine. Finals coming up, but I'm on track."

"Excellent." Tony finally let up, and backed away with a couple of friendly slaps to the boy's shoulder. "So. Boots."

They both descended into a detailed, technical discussion that Bucky didn't grasp, and wasn't interested in following, either. He knew what he needed to know from the relaxed tilt to Tony's shoulders, the happy glint in his eye, the affectionate tone of his voice. From the way the kid was leaning way into Tony's space and was entirely welcome there.

Friend.

Good.

Bucky gradually left his huddle in the corner and slid his way closer, around to just the other side of the contraption in the ceiling, and watched their easy, relaxed interactions from there instead.

After a little while, the boy, Peter, had shucked his shoes and pulled on a pair of skin-tight, red boots. He was bouncing a little on the balls of his feet when Tony pointed up, the boy nodded, and then crouched and _jumped_ , and suddenly he was hanging from his hands and feet off the ceiling.

Bucky stiffened all over, shocked, and then abruptly very curious.

Tony had been right that he would fit right in by being impossible, clearly.

He stretched out is tentacles and wriggled closer. Bucky noticed how the movement made Peter's head immediately turn around, eyes fixing on him, and he seemed almost startled for a moment, but he quickly relaxed and smiled.

"Hey, I'd forgotten about you." Peter swung around and slowly crawled closer, like he wasn't upside down, like human teenagers hanging off sheer surfaces like lizards was entirely normal.

Bucky clearly shouldn't judge but. Still.

Weird.

He hesitated a little, but then he slithered closer to the kid, too. He stopped after a bit, and instead took a tentacle off the ceiling and stretched it out, pushed more of himself into it until it grew long and lean and met the boy halfway.

Peter stopped when he reached it, pulled one of his hands free, and reached a finger out to curiously poke the tip of the tentacle with his finger. He blinked, and then pushed gently, watched his fingertip sink into Bucky's tentacle until it reached the first knuckle. Then he grinned, and pulled it back. 

"Okay, I wasn't expecting that." He didn't sound bothered, though.

So Bucky moved closer, picked up the scents of unfamiliar perfumes and chemicals and streets. He wasn't quite sure how he knew that last one. It was something old. Concrete and garbage and the feeling of crowds, slipping into your pores. He'd lived it, once, he thought. Once it had been home.

Peter was still smiling when they were up close, so Bucky slowly stretched the tentacle back out, and gently poked the boy's nose. Which made him crack up in giggles.

"You know", he then said quietly, confidentially, "Mr. Stark told me you're really sweet, even though you might look a bit scary. And he's totally right. For once."

"What's that?" Tony was standing directly below them, head tipped back, fists on his hips, a frown on his face. "Once more for the gravity-impaired in the back?"

"Ah, nothing, Mr. Stark." Peter winked at Bucky. "It'd go over your head, anyway."

Tony sputtered. "Okay, that's it young man! You get your ass down here or I'm keeping the boots! If I stretch them enough they might even fit me."

"He says that", Peter whispered, making no immediate move to drop down, "all the time. But he never does."

In response, Bucky opened both his eyes all the way, and took a moment to be amused at the way it made Peter's mouth go round in amazement. And then he winked back. Just to try it out.

It felt pretty good.

* * *

"You and Parker", Tony muttered as he came walking toward the bed, "ganging up on me like that. Unbelievable!" His tone was hinting at outrage, but Bucky heard the smile curving around the words.

He couldn't really see Tony at the moment, in any sense of the word, because he had already clambered up into the bed, and slipped in under the duvet. The thick fluff dulled his senses enough that only hearing, and the vibrations of Tony's movements across the floor, remained. Bucky would have worried if he was reading things right with the input from only so few senses to go on, but he knew Tony by now. So Bucky just stayed relaxed right where he was, sprawled out over more than half of the nicely soft mattress, the tips of some of his tentacles still draping down the side of the bed. Secure in the knowledge that Tony wasn't mad at him. Or at Peter, for that matter.

And when Tony slipped in next to him under the duvet, his movements were nothing but soft and gentle, that smile radiating off his whole skin. As usual he shuffled around a little to get comfortable, grabbed his pillow, shoved it right up by the closest part of Bucky, and curled up by his side with a happy sigh.

Bucky rippled at the sensation of so much bare skin against his own. He stretched and filled half a dozen tentacles, and wrapped them securely around all of Tony's body, from shoulders to feet.

There had been an awkward moment about sharing a bed after the day of examination in Bruce's lab. Tony had shuffled hesitantly by the foot of the bed, tugged indecisively at the hem of his shirt, and seemed to reconsider getting in at all. Bucky, already half under the covers, had given a concerned shudder, and wrapped a tentacle around the back of Tony's thigh, just above the knee, to tug gently. _'What's the hold-up?'_

"If you don't sleep, at all, isn't it weird, and kinda boring, to lie around here while I'm passed out for eight hours straight?"

That made Bucky wish he could snort, because what a load of crap!

What could possibly be boring about wrapping oneself up around a sleeping, trusting, happy, warm human?

Though to be fair, Bucky wasn't sure he even could get bored. He faintly remembered the basic concept of boredom. Of standing in lines. Of long travels. Of lying in a hidden place with a loaded rifle for only company, waiting for a man to line up for the crosshairs. But it was distant and strange to him now. This body, so intricately connected to his mind, was always busy with something. Everything was constant sensory input, and it kept him occupied at all times.

A sleeping body next to his offered neverending entertainment for his senses. The slow breathing, the snuffling little noises and tiny snores, steady heartbeats, dreamy movements against his skin, the way Tony's heat patterns changed with the cycles of his sleep, the darting movements of his eyes behind their soft lids, the languid shift of never resting organs in his gut, the coming and going of night-time erections.

It wasn't possible to be bored.

And as for the passing of time, Bucky didn't think he felt that the same way a human did, either. He could still understand clocks, could read the time and measure it, but his mind wasn't concerned with it the same way he thought it had been, once.

He was his senses, now. Life rolling on was measured in scents and sounds and gentle touches.

Hours were meaningless.

Since he couldn't snort, Bucky had gone for a more direct way of telling Tony that he really didn't mind. So he had darted out a couple of nimble, slim tentacles to swat Tony's hands away from his shirt, pulled it straight off him, so that Tony barely had time to raise his arms and allow it to be slid off. Then Bucky had thickened severeal tentacles enough that he could securely grip the man, and bodily _lift him_ into the bed.

Tony had made a surprised, almost startled little noise, but not objected as Bucky - internally grumbling about silly humans and their silly ideas - had tugged the duvet over them both and patted it down snugly around Tony's feet and back.

Tony had chuckled a little breathlessly against him as he threw an arm over the closest tentacle. "All right, message received", he'd murmured. "Night, Bucky."

Bucky had patted his messy hair in response, and settled in.

Ever since then, Tony hadn't made a fuss about Bucky spending the night in his bed, and it had become a steady, soothing routine.

With a happy, humming noise, Tony snuggled even closer now. "It's a good thing you run cooler than me, Bucks. Or this would be sticky."

That was probably true. Bucky didn't sweat, but Tony did. If Bucky had been warmer than he was, Tony would definitely have risked some overheating.

After coming to rest by Bucky's side, it still didn't feel like Tony was ready to go to sleep, though, so Bucky wasn't really surprised when he twisted around, pressed his cheek against a tentacle, and spoke up into the dim light.

"Hey? I don't want to be pushy or anything, but it would be great if you'd consider at least meeting Steve soon."

Bucky tensed up.

Tony hushed him. "I know, I'm sorry, it's not an order or anything. You can take your time and think about it. But, please, do think about it? Okay?" Tony swallowed, more heavily than usual. "He's worried, and anxious, and my god, but he has the worst set of kicked puppy eyes in the history of the known universe so, just, please? He's killing me with the guilt-tripping."

Softening a little, Bucky tightened his grip in sympathy.

"I've explained to him that it's not my call to make", Tony murmured, petting him. "But maybe it would be good for you, too? To just see him and talk to him? He won't be going away, and neither will you. I hope. So it would be good, for all of us. If you two start to get along."

For a moment Bucky hesitated, but then he decided that he needed his words for this. He raised a limb and made the sweeping gesture that signalled to JARVIS that he wanted the projection of his keyboard. It came to life over the bed at once, and Bucky squinted an eye open enough to see it, and tap out his response.

SCARED

"Hey, no." Tony wriggled his arms around him as best he could, and held on. "Steve loves you. He wouldn't ever hurt you."

HUMAN ME, Bucky tapped out bitterly. NOT THIS

"Yeah, okay, so he might need some time to figure things out, but if you just give him a chance to do that? I think he'll surprise you."

Bucky hesitated, considered, tentacle tips fidgeting on the duvet and Tony's back, tapping reslessly on the underside of the mattress. He was still scared, but maybe that didn't matter? Because Tony was right. Steve wouldn't go away. Bucky definitely wasn't planning on going away. So, it would just have to happen, at some point.

Perhaps sooner rather than later.

He interally steeled himself and wrote, OK

And then, TOMORROW, before he swiped the keys away. He had nothing more to say.

"Really?" And Tony sounded so _happy_. "That's great!" He pressed a beard-course, closed-lipped kiss against Bucky's skin, which rippled helpessly under the unfamiliar touch. "Thank you."

He fell asleep not long after that, smiling against Bucky's body.

Bucky, of course, didn't sleep. And instead of spending the night enjoying Touch, Warmth, and Sleepy Noises, he fretted.

For the first time he could properly remember, he counted the hours until tomorrow would arrive.

* * *

Early the next day found Bucky alone in Tony's workshop. He wasn't used to being there on his own, and he could feel himself vibrating anxiously against the table he was clinging to, every single tentacle wrapped too hard around metal edges, tips tapping restlessly.

He was a mess.

He also made himself keep both his eyes wide open as he watched the door. It didn't come naturally to him, but after debating with himself he had decided that any little advantage he had that could make him look a little more like a _person_ , he was going to take it.

Bucky heard and felt Steve approach long before the darkened doors slid open to allow him into the room.

He was dressed in his uniform. Bucky knew the thump of his boots and the stiffness of the reinforced fabric. He figured that maybe Steve had been going for the same sense of safety that Bucky had, when he asked to meet Steve here, in a familiar setting, instead of in Steve's rooms, or on more neutral ground.

Of course, Bucky knew of Steve's rooms, too. He'd spied on them many times, back when he had still been stalking the vents. But they weren't familiar like the workshop was familiar.

Steve had looked as much of a mess then, as Bucky felt now.

When he walked through the doors, though, Steve looked put-together. Shoulders squared, steps long and sure, a stubborn set to his jaw. The eyes gave him away, Bucky noticed. Behind the blue, he was still a mess.

Oddly, it made Bucky feel a tiny bit better.

Those pained eyes settled on Bucky's after just a second or two of scanning the interior of the workshop. His steps faltered, just a little, and then he kept going straight forward. Once he started getting up close, he slowed down, probably trying not to seem intimidating. Bucky appreciated the effort, but it was sort of wasted on him in this trembling, miserable state.

He knew he was huddling and cowering a bit, but couldn't stop himself.

Bucky had been scared back when he had first sought Tony out in his bed, too. He'd been so lost and confused and _desperately lonely_ , and Tony's scent had been all he knew in this new world. It hadn't taken much to realize that Tony was scared, too. Of him. But he hadn't been able to stay away, and little by little, they had felt safer. Together.

Being scared of Tony had been a simpler thing to get over, however. It was just a matter of reaching a state where they both decided they weren't threats, and didn't wish each other harm.

Steve? 

Yeah. Steve was another thing entirely. 

Tony had never known him, any version of him, before. But Steve had. And some version of him had known Steve, very well.

He wasn't that Bucky. The one who had loved a tiny, spit-fire ball of sunshine back in Brooklyn. The one who had followed Steve into burning war. That Bucky wasn't him. He was dead.

But they were connected. Maybe deeper than he sometimes wanted to acknowledge. And that meant Steve could harm him in ways Tony hadn't had the power to. At least not back in the beginning.

His keyboard was already displayed on the metal surface in front of him, but Bucky didn't notice he'd already used it until he saw Steve startle to an ungraceful halt by the opposite edge of the table, staring at the words hovering between them with eyes that were very wide, and maybe a little less haunted.

HELLO PUNK

Steve coughed out a little choking sound, cleared his throat, and breathed, "You know me?"

YOURE STEVE

Screw apostophes. Bucky couldn't care less about proper grammar at the moment.

"And you?" Steve swallowed. "Are you Bucky?"

That was the million dollar question, wasn't it? The one that decided everything. Bucky's tentacle hovered in the air above the keys, trembling, uncertain, but then he knew there was only one way to go with Steve, and that was the honest one.

NOT THE ONE YOU REMEMBER

HE DIED

SORRY

He hesitated again at the wobble in Steve's lower lip, the wetness of his eyes, but there was no stopping or going back now. Point of no return. Bucky tried giving him a slow, friendly blink, then wrote on.

I REMEMBER HIM TOO

HE LOVED YOU

And that was when Steve actually started crying. Silently, tears dripping down his pale face, breathing gone laboured and hitched.

IM PART OF HIM THOUGH

WE FOUGHT HYDRA

TOGETHER

BECAUSE WE REMEMBERED YOU

"Yeah", Steve said, strangled, around a trembling but so _proud_ smile. "I heard about that. You did good. Real good."

All at once, Bucky felt his body stop shaking. He softened around the metal table, drooped out of his huddle. It would be fine. He was fine. Steve wasn't mad. Steve was proud.

IM A DIFFERENT BUCKY

It was easier to type when he wasn't so stiff and vibrating with nervous tension.

MAYBE YOURE A DIFFERENT STEVE?

He eyed Steve uncertainly after softly tapping the question mark.

Steve froze up a little, but just briefly. Then he raised a hand to his face, wiped some wetness off his cheeks, and finally, he nodded.

WE COULD BE DIFFERENT FRIENDS

"I..." Steve blinked at the words, then at Bucky. "Yeah, I think we could be, too. If... I mean? If you want that? Bucky?"

Ignoring the keyboard, Bucky pushed himself into the tentacle he had used to type, made it long enough to reach across the table. One of Steve's hands was resting with just the tips of his fingers by the edge there, and though he tensed up a little, he didn't pull it back when Bucky slipped closer, closer, and then stroked down the back of his hand, right to where his wrist disappeared into the sleeve of the uniform. He wrapped himself around that wrist, bone and muscle so much thicker and stronger than a lost part of him remembered, and gave it a soft, gentle squeeze.

"That kinda feels like a yes?" There was the beginning of a smile on Steve's damp face.

Bucky radiated one right back, off his skin and through his eyes.

Friends.

Good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the guys go on vacation, Bucky explores the world, Steve is a shirtless menace, and Tony nearly has multiple heartattacks.

”I've never been on vacation”, Steve observed as he dropped their bags on the floor of the open, bright, airy reception room in the Malibu mansion.

”Then you're overdue, old man.” Tony gave him a few friendly pats on the shoulder as he moved past him, into the room properly, and settled his hands on his hips as he looked around. Everything was clean and polished and dusted, and even in here Tony thought he could feel the fresh, salty smell of the ocean right outside the glass wall in front of them. ”At least this is a great place to get started.”

Steve's amused huff couldn't quite mask the soft, slithering noise of Bucky following them inside, moving on the ceiling high above their heads. Even without looking, Tony knew he was unsettled and skittish, moving in quick starts and stops instead of his usual steady, easy flow.

The flight had been a bit of an ordeal.

Even though they had taken the quinjet directly from the Tower, Bucky had been clearly distressed about leaving the known environment that had become his home. So Steve had taken the pilot seat without a word, and let Tony sit in the back where there was plenty of room for Bucky to climb up on the seat with him. He had settled like a heavy, nervously vibrating blanket over Tony's lap, hanging down his legs, tentacles wrapped around his ankles and feet for security. His eyes had been tightly closed the whole trip, and Tony had never stopped slowly, gently petting his smooth, slate-gray skin, even when he sometimes chatted idly with Steve at the controls.

Once they had touched down, Steve deftly maneuvering the quinjet into the hangar under the mansion, connected to Tony's workshop, and the doors lid closed behind them, Bucky hadn't been willing to let go. So Steve, smiling indulgently, had just picked up all their bags – because supersoldiers did not do second trips – and let Tony handle the nervous bundle of tentacles.

Tony had patted his own shoulder, and Bucky had immediately taken the hint. He'd loosened his grip on Tony's legs, let him stand, and then shifted around until he could hang on to Tony's shoulders and waist like a backpack. He was indeed a lot lighter than he looked, and as long as he didn't have to go for a long walk, Tony could pretty comfortably carry him like that.

Thankfully Bucky was ready to get around on his own by the time they reached the spiral staircase up from the 'shop. He slid down Tony's back and moved in a quick, tightly huddled shuffle over to the wall, up to the ceiling, from where he had followed them here.

”You doing okay, Limbs?” Tony finally tipped his head back, and saw Bucky wave one single tentacle tip in his direction. ”Sweet. We'll go unpack. Be back in a few.” When all he got was another little flick of a tentacle, he turned to Steve. ”Let's go.”

Steve nodded, even as he was glancing around the new place, looking nearly as out of his element as Bucky. He didn't say anything though, just picked their luggage back up and followed Tony up to the bedrooms on the second floor.

”Master suite is that way.” Tony hooked a thumb over his shoulder as they reached the landing. ”I think you'll like this one.”

He stepped forward and opened the first door on the right. That one led to a guest suite with a spectacular ocean view, decorated in warm browns, soft, sandy golds, and light teal accents.

Leaving Tony's bags on the landing, Steve carried his own into the suite, dropped it by the loveseat in the livingroom. He glanced around at the tall windows, and through the doorway leading to the bedroom dominated by acres of freshly made bed. He put his hands on his hips as he turned back to Tony, shoulders dropped forward in that way Tony suspected Steve thought made him look smaller, but which actually did sort of the opposite.

”Thanks for letting me come along, Tony. This is really nice.”

Tony huffed goodnaturedly. ”Nice. Sure, let's go with 'nice'. And of course you're welcome. Both Bucky and I want you here, you know.”

”Yeah, I'm starting to get that.” Steve's smile was small and a little uncertain, but warm under the brittle surface. ”It's just... I know I wasn't dealing with things very well when he first showed up. So I really appreciate getting to spend time with you.”

”Good, you should. We're both pretty awesome.”

That made Steve's smile widen and settle in properly. ”Can't argue with that.”

”Perfect. I like it when we don't argue.” Tony grinned back.

”Now, that's a lie”, Steve chuckled.

”Okay, fine, I'll admit, arguing with you might be one of my favourite pastimes, but we'll save that for later.” Tony gave him a little _'carry on, now'_ wave, and started turning to leave. ”Unpack, freshen up, change for dinner -”

”It's two PM.”

”- and I'll see you downstairs later.” Tony threw Steve a sloppy salute, as he just stood there smiling and shaking his head, and then spun on his heel out the door to go drop his own bags off in his bedroom. 

Well, his and Bucky's bedroom now, he supposed. He hadn't slept a night alone since Bucky first invaded his bed properly, and Tony definitely did not miss it. Even a little.

When he came back down the stairs, Bucky was still clinging tightly to the ceiling, but when he sensed Tony's presence he at least let go enough to give him a little wave. A sign that he was okay, that Tony didn't have to worry. So he didn't. Or tried not to, at least. But he still stayed and kept an eye on Bucky as he began to shuffle around the room, exploring, still hanging upside down.

Tony knew a lot more about Bucky's anatomy now than he had back when he had been a faintly terrifying monster sneaking around in the vents, but watching him move around would probably never stop being fascinating.

As Bucky finally got ready to leave the ceiling, he stayed attached to it with a few of his 27 tentacles, let them stretch long, lowering himself until enough of his free limbs were connected with the floor to take the bulk of his weight. Then he smoothly let go and contracted, settling down completely soundlessly. From there he quickly shuffled across the open space, still nervously huddled in on himself, and slid in under the long couch, which followed the curve of the glass wall facing the ocean.

Tony made sure he moved slowly and made enough noise not to startle him as he walked over to sit down on the coffee table. From there he could see both the view, and what Bucky was up too.

It was a beautiful day outside. The sunshine was glittering off the faint ripples on the calm Pacific, the sky was a wide, bright blue dome above, and Tony felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in ages. He drew in a long, relieved breath, and let it out as a slow, happy sigh.

”It's been way too long since I came out here”, he told Bucky, still hidden under the couch. ”Manhattan is great and all, but it's got nothing on this.” Tony smiled at the horizon. ”You should sneak out here and take a look at the view, Bucks. Promise you won't regret it.”

There was a long hesitation, but then he could hear Bucky start to wriggle himself free of the couch. One tip of a tentacle was followed by another, by three, five, and then Bucky was heaving himself up on the back of the seats. He slowly stretched himself along most of the couch, even though his tentacles were still short, slim, tight and dense in the way that Tony knew meant that he was unsure of his surroundings, or his actions. Or both.

His shape and size were so flexible and malleable, and they worked a lot like a human's body language. By now Tony knew enough about Bucky to be able to tell how he felt, and what he wanted, most of the time. Even without using words.

Bucky stayed still and taut for a moment, but then he slowly peeled his huge eyes open. And stared at the ocean.

For a long time he didn't move at all. Then his tentacles started to ripple slightly. Gradually they went wide, flat, and loose, and draped down the cushions in a way that meant Bucky was relaxing. But it was clear that he was also excited, his entire body shivering in awe, the flat ends of his tentacles coiling in on themselves a little, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Eyes still wide, rolling around to take in everything outside the window.

Eventually he shuddered, flared, then coiled up, flared again, like he couldn't decide what to do, and then he turned around and flopped down on the seats of the couch. He looked unsettled, overwhelmed, but his eyes were still wide open, bright and amazed. Bucky reached a couple of tentacles out toward Tony, wrapped one around his leg, the other around his hands where they were resting in his lap, in need of reassuring contact.

He gave Bucky a smile. ”Been a while since you were outside, huh?”

A tentacle gestured for the keyboard, and since the same systems were installed here as in the Tower, JARVIS instantly complied.

NEVER, Bucky wrote.

Tony blinked. ”Wait, you've never... been outside? Ever?”

BASE, was the reply. CRYO, came next, then, TOWER. And then nothing.

”Oh, well, shit”, Tony mumbled, suddenly feeling a little bit sick to his stomach. He hadn't even considered that possibility.

”Maybe I'm not the only one overdue for a vacation.” Steve's voice startled Tony slightly out of his thoughts. He was standing on the other side of the coffee table when Tony twisted around, arms crossed over his ridiculous chest, a concerned frown on his face.

”Seems like a good time to get started, then.”

Decision made, Tony gently shooed Bucky's tentacles away. They retreated very reluctantly. When they were at a safe distance, Tony got to his feet and walked over to the door that opened to the curved terrace outside. He pushed it open, stepped outside in the sunlight, and then turned around to give both Steve and Bucky a smile, hands slipped into his pockets as he rocked casually on his heels. 

The way Steve blinked at him made it look like he'd never seen the outside world up close, either. While Bucky was coiled up into a tense little pile on the couch.

For a moment there, Tony thought Bucky was going to bolt. Scurry off to hide somewhere safe. But then, to his surprise, Steve turned to Bucky and slowly, carefully, reached out a hand, palm open in an offer.

”I've never been out there either”, he told the skittish bundle of tentacles. ”Want to go with me?” Like Steve was the one who needed support and his hand held to brave the outside.

All at once, Tony wanted to hug him. 

Bucky still hesitated, but then he slithered off the seats, under the coffee table, and right up to Steve's feet. There he stopped, and gently patted a tentacle against the leg of Steve's jeans, a request to be allowed to climb him that Steve apparently got, too, because he immediately nodded. So Bucky wrapped himself around those long legs, climbed all the way up to Steve's narrow hips, and then slipped around to his back, until he was the same kind of backpack he had been on Tony earlier. Eyes wide open and peeking over Steve's shoulder at Tony, and the outside world, waiting for him on the other side of the open door.

Steve, bless him, didn't walk right outside. Instead he took a breath, and rubbed his palm over a tentacle where it was wrapped across his pectorals. ”Ready, Bucky?”

Even from this distance, Tony could see the fabric of Steve's t-shirt bunch up when Bucky squeezed an agreement. Only then did Steve start to walk forward, smiling almost shyly at Tony as he went.

Bucky was watching everything with wary, but curious eyes as Steve passed through the door, walked a few steps over the pale stone floor outside, and stopped in front of where Tony was waiting for them.

”Hey.” Tony felt himself beam like an idiot up at Steve. Who seemed to be just fine with the weight of tentacles on his back, though one was even wrapped around his throat. ”That wasn't so bad, right?”

”I think we're doing okay,” Steve agreed. ”Right, Buck?”

In reply, Bucky's tentacles went wide and flat against Steve's body.

Steve grinned at Tony. ”We're good.”

For a while they stayed like that, enjoying the sunshine, the ocean breeze, as Tony told Steve about the issues there had been with building the place. Structural problems. Innovative solutions that let the house basically cascade down the cliff in a way people had loved telling him would simply not be achievable. Which, of course, had only made Tony more determined to prove them wrong.

”So you're saying your stubbornness is all that's preventing us from sliding into the ocean?” Steve had that amused glint in his eye that told Tony he wasn't as serious as his tone would have you believe. 

”Pretty much”, Tony agreed with a smirk. ”If I'd had access to your stubbornness at the time, though, I probably could have added at least three floors.”

With a snort, Steve gently punched the front of his shoulder. As if they didn't both know it was completely true.

As they stood there grinning at each other, Tony noticed how Bucky was gradually letting go of Steve's shoulders and waist, and let himself drop softly down on the terrace floor. He huddled in Steve's impressive shadow for a minute, and then he slithered out on the open space next to where they were standing. While both Tony and Steve watched in silence, Bucky stayed still and densely tight, clearly expecting something bad to happen, something unknown coming out of nowhere to attack him. When nothing did happen, Bucky finally relaxed a little. His slate-gray body, so very dark against the golden stone floor, slowly sprawled out in all directions until he was a giant, too-many-limbed starfish basking in the sun. His eyes carefully slitted open to squint at the light, then they fell back closed into pleased curves of smooth skin.

And then he seemed to just _melt_ , right there on the spot. His tentacles thinned and flared wide, until his whole being was scattered and soft and as flat as a happy pancake in the warmth. 

”Well, someone is clearly getting a hang of the whole vacation thing.” Tony smiled at the sprawl of basking tentacles. 

Not to be outdone by a first-timer, Tony got out a couple of lounge chairs from storage, along with a table and cushions, and soon he had things nicely set up for humans, who didn't think the stone floor was a great place to enjoy the sun. 

By the time he was leaning back, an ice cold beer in his hand, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, feet thrown up, Steve came wandering out after grabbing a tray full of snacks for them. He'd also tossed his t-shirt somewhere along the way, and the sunlight did absolutely sinful things to his torso. Tony actually did a double take when he appeared, and had to tip his head forward so he could squint over the top of his glasses. 

”Christ, Rogers. You're a menace to society.”

”Just trying to get the hang of the whole vacation thing”, Steve shot back with an innocent smile, while he leaned back in his own chair and wrapped his hands behind his head. Which showed off both his deeply curved biceps, and the strangely endearing tufts of sandy blond hair in his armpits. 

”Yeah, sure.” Tony leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Better safe than sorry. 

They sipped their beers for a while, munched on nuts and fruits Steve had found in the kitchen, chatted and lazed around in the sun for a while. Until Tony glanced around and suddenly realized that they were alone on the terrace. 

”Hey!” He abruptly sat up and quickly scanned their surroundings. ”Bucky?”

”There he is.” Steve had leaned forward too, and was pointing at the glass-and-metal railing by the edge of the terrace. Where only the tips of a few tentacles were still visible against the glass, already sliding downwards. 

”Shit!” Tony scrambled to get up off the lounge chair as quickly as possible without breaking any limbs, and ran up to the railing.

There was nothing but cliff face and crashing ocean waves to be seen when he leaned out over the edge. At least at first. Then Tony spotted the familiar, smooth movements of Bucky, climbing his way steadily down the cliff. 

”Bucky!”

All his distressed call earned him was a casual wave of a tentacle.

”Okay. That's not good.” Tony took a step back, buried both his hands in his hair, and looked around for something to help get Bucky back up from there. ”If he falls into the ocean he's screwed.”

”To be fair”, Steve said, still leaning over the railing, ”he doesn't look like he's likely to fall.”

”You don't know that!”

”Sure, but Tony, have you ever seen him fall back home? Off anything?” The look Steve threw him over his shoulder was far too calm, in Tony's opinion. If someone should be worried about Bucky falling, it was Steve! 

”That's different! Who knows what's loose down there?” He tugged at his hair, and then turned on his heel and ran inside. Only one thing to do, really.

”Tony!”

”I'll be right back!”

And he was. Only, he wasn't back on the terrace where Steve was still watching from the railing. No, he came sweeping through the air from the other side of the cliff, where the workshop opened to the road. Sure, Tony had most of his suits in New York these days, but the first proper Iron Man armour had still been built right here in Malibu, and all of them never left. This was their home. 

One of the older models would be more than enough to rescue Bucky from falling into the ocean, after all. 

It was far easier to spot Bucky through the HUD than it had been with his eyes. Now he could zoom in on where his bundle of tentacles was climbing and crawling down the steep, rocky drop down to the frothing water, knocking itself silly against the foot of the cliff. Tony hovered closer, slowly, so he wouldn't make Bucky fall just by startling him. 

”Hey there, Tangles.” The slightly tinny sound of his voice from the suit's speakers still made Bucky freeze on the spot. Which was good. ”Where are you off to?”

Tony could see Bucky's eyes open wide to stare up at him from his rocky perch. They blinked once, twice, and then two tentacles came undone from where they were plastered to the cliff somehow – one of the things Tony still hadn't figured out was how Bucky actually managed to adhere to any surface with his entirely smooth skin – and curiously reached out for Iron Man, hanging in the air ten feet away.

All at once it seemed like Bucky had forgotten about his climbing adventure, eyes fixed on Tony instead, another two limbs coming to reach for him. The tips of the outstretched tentacles were doing eager little _'come here'_ kind of twitches that Tony figured out was Bucky's version of making gabby hands. So he moved a little bit closer, happy to have distracted Bucky from his vertical endeavours. 

As soon as he was close enough, one of Bucky's tentacles patted at his chest plate, curious and tentative. His wide eyes were locked on Tony's helmet. 

”Yeah, it's me in here, Buck.” Tony realized that while Bucky would have seen parts of his suits being worked on, and some of them standing on display in the Tower's workshop, he had never actually explained to Bucky that he was Iron Man. And what that meant. ”You want to spare my poor, fragile heart and come with me back to the top? Not gonna lie, this is freaking me out a bit. Or a lot. Whatever.”

Bucky's eyes softened a little in something that might be understanding. He wrapped his tentacles around the neck, shoulders, and waist of the suit so he could let go of the cliff completely, and haul himself up against Tony's metal-covered chest. 

In the suit, Bucky wasn't heavy at all. 

”Thanks”, Tony sighed. ”All right. Up we go.”

He didn't shoot up back to the mansion as quickly as he would have on his own, but Tony still put enough force into the thrusters to make Bucky blink and squint against the wind. He didn't close his eyes, though, and there was a bit of wonder in the way he looked at the world flashing by, tentacles tight around the armour. And when Tony touched down on the terrace, where Steve was waiting for them with a concerned frown on his face, Bucky seemed reluctant to let go.

Tony flipped the face plate open and smiled at him. ”Okay, buddy, I'm going to need you to let go for a minute. Otherwise I can't get out of this thing.”

Seemingly in awe, Bucky stared up at his face for a moment, still plastered to the chest plate. Then he obediently slipped down the suit's front, to the stone paving, and backed up a couple feet.

Which was just enough for Tony to let the armour unfold, and step out. As soon as he was on his own feet, he squatted down in front of Bucky, arms wide, and in an instant Bucky surged up against him. Tentacles wrapped around Tony's shoulders, while Bucky still supported most of his weight on a few more, stretching up from the floor like a little kid going in for a proper hug. He was trembling, just a little, while the tips of his tentacles patted against Tony's back, stroked his hair, like Bucky wanted to make sure it was really him. And all in one piece.

Maybe Tony wasn't the only one having a bit of a scare, here.

”Hey”, Tony murmured, moving his own hands to stroke Bucky in turn, ”we're good. It's all right. You just had me worried back there.”

Slowly, Bucky drew back, drooping sadly, giving Tony a wide-eyed look in clear regret.

”It's okay”, Tony assured him, with a just slightly wobbly smile. ”What were you doing, anyway?”

Bucky blinked. Then he raised a tentacle, stretched it out a little in the air, before letting it fall in a 90 degree angle straight down, until he could carefully tap at the floor with the very tip.

It didn't take Tony more than a second to piece it together. ”You wanted to touch the water.”

Bucky bobbed his body, in his version of a nod.

”Okay, all right, sure.” With a deep sigh, Tony rubbed his hands over his face, and then gave the nervously waiting pile of tentacles a proper smile. ”Well, I can help with that. Just, wait here a minute? Okay? No climbing anything until I'm back.”

Another bob, this one quicker and a little eager.

When Tony looked up, ready to rush into the mansion, he found Steve watching him with one eyebrow raised in question.

”Yeah, actually, that's a good point”, Tony blurted out, as if Steve had said something. Which just made his other eyebrow climb up his forehead to join the first. ”You're coming with me, Rogers.”

He shot forward, clamped a hand around Steve's wrist, and started dragging him along.

”Remember, no climbing!” Tony threw the words over his shoulder, right before they disappeared into the house.

They got all the way up to the landing outside the bedrooms before Steve tugged him to a gentle stop. Or, gentle for him. It still stopped Tony in his tracks so abruptly that he fell back against Steve's chest. Which was still shirtless. Damn.

Chuckling, Steve settled his hands around Tony's upper arms to first steady, and then turn him around. ”Okay, Shellhead, what's the plan?”

Tony wasn't sure if the affectionately amused expression on Steve's face was more distracting than his pectorals from this distance. It was a tough call, honestly. ”Huh? Oh, right. Yeah, I figured we'd go for a swim in the pool. Water for Bucky, and no climbing.”

”Sounds good.”

When Tony's only response was to stand there and beam happily at having his plan approved, Steve gave a proper laugh and used the still lingering grip on his arms to turn him around again, until Tony was facing his own bedroom doors.

”Go change, Tony.”

He though he managed to do that pretty quickly, actually, but by the time he had rummaged through his bags to find his shorts and debated with himself if he should toss a tank top on or not, deciding against it at the last minute, Steve was still waiting for him on the terrace when he came back outside, changed into his own shorts. Of course, Steve had probably unpacked properly after being shown to his room, so there was that.

Bucky was gathered in relaxed coils by Steve's feet, one tentacle reached out to wrap around Steve's closest ankle in search of reassuring physical contact. He was probably pleased that they were less covered up like this. Even though he had gotten over most of his aversion to clothes, he still most definitely preferred touch that was skin-on-skin.

”All right, then.” Tony rubbed his hands together once he'd reached them. ”Steve, you okay with giving Bucks a ride to where we're going? Don't think my old man knees can get him down the stairs.”

”You're not old”, Steve snorted, but he was already reaching a hand down to Bucky, indicating that he was perfectly fine with carrying him.

Tony had noticed that Bucky opted to have his eyes open more and more these days, mostly for cummunicating through his looks and expressions. Right now, they were narrowed as Bucky glanced from Tony to Steve, clearly wondering what they were up to. But he didn't hesitate to stretch a limb up to accept the offered hand and climb up on Steve's back again.

”You'll see once we get there”, Tony promised him, smiling, before he turned to lead them down the stairs that curved around most of the mansion, to the lower terrace with the swimming pool.

As soon as they were on the terrace and Bucky caught sight of the pool, his eyes went wide as saucers. All of him flared flat against Steve, some tentacles twitching and curling in the air in obvious excitement. He untangled himself from his ride so fast he actually _did_ fall. Only from Steve's hip down to the stone paving, sure, and he rolled right side up instantly, quickly shuffling to the edge of the pool, but Tony still shot Steve a _'what did I tell you?!'_ glare.

All it earned him from Steve was a shrug, but Tony was too curious to see what Bucky was going to do next to press the point, anyway.

As it turned out, Bucky had stretched himself as long as he could get along the edge of the pool – which was definitely _impressively_ long, Tony had to say – and rolled his body as far over the edge as he could, to peek down at the surface of the blue water. He was still flat and pleased, safely attached even to the polished tiles.

Busy studying Bucky's next move, Tony hadn't noticed Steve move from his side. So the sudden movement of him gracefully diving into the pool, knifing through the surface with barely a splash, almost made Tony startle.

When he resurfaced, Tony had his arms crossed over his chest and did his very best disapproving frown. It probably lost a lot of its potency with the way his mouth wouldn't stop curling up at the corners, though.

”Really, Rogers?”

”What?” Steve smirked at him as he raked his wet hair back from his forehead with both hands, not even trying to look innocent anymore. ”Water for Bucky, and no climbing.” He sounded way too smug as he repeated Tony's words.

”Menace”, Tony muttered.

Then he was distracted by a tentacle wrapping around his calf, where it squeezed a request. He looked down to find wide, blue-gray eyes aiming a pleading look at him. Three dark gray tentacles pointed down at the water, while three more were making those eager 'grabby hands'.

”Sure thing, buddy.” He walked to the pool's edge, sat himself down on it and slipped into the water from there, because he wasn't a _'what are even parachutes?'_ kind of show-off.

Tony gave a happy sigh at the feel of the water closing around him to chest level. The temperature was just cool enough to be refreshing, but still completely pleasant. Perfect. It had taken him a few years to be comfortable in the pool again, but he was happy now that he could fully enjoy it. He still didn't love having his head under the surface, but this was great.

He walked over to where Bucky was waiting for him, movements slow and deamlike through the water's resistance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve floating around on his back, relaxed and happy to give them a moment.

”Ready to give it a splash?”

Immediately, Bucky draped a tentacle down the side of the pool, the tip carefully dipping into the water. Which was probably smart. They didn't exactly know what chlorine would do to his skin.

When Bucky pulled the tentacle back out of the water, Tony worried that he'd had a bad reaction, but Bucky just brought the wet tip up to where he could see it. He curiously studied the way the water turned his skin slightly darker and shinier, rubbed the tentacle against itself to feel the unfamiliar wetness. And then he promptly shoved it back down into the water, deeper this time, so Tony stopped worrying. With his many keen senses, Bucky would have known if something about it was bad for him.

Bucky dipped another few tentacles into the pool. At first he took in the sensation of cool water. Then he pulled one back to the surface, did what Tony had suggested, and splashed it with a wide tentacle tip.

Sputtering a little, Tony rubbed the water drops off his face to find Bucky's huge eyes smiling at him. 

”Is that the thanks I get?” But he was laughing when he said it, and the way Bucky rippled with mirth made it clear he was in on the joke. ”Jerk.”

For a moment, Bucky's eyes widened in something that could have been shock. But it passed so fast Tony wasn't sure what it was, or why. Then Bucky's eyes were happy half moons again as he reached his tentacles for Tony's hands and shoulders. He clearly wanted to join him in the water, looking for support on the way down.

”Yeah, that's it.” Tony happily wrapped him up in his arms as he slid down into the pool. In the water, Bucky was light enough for him to hold comfortably. ”Feels nice, right?”

Bucky rippled and flared in pleasured agreement. He splashed a little more around them, with several tentacles at once, probably just because he enjoyed the sensation and the sound, and the way the sunlight sparkled off the flying droplets. It was like watching a little kid discover water for the first time, and in a way, Tony guessed it really was the same. Sure, Bucky had some memories from the human life that had spawned him, but he himself wasn't more than a year old. You couldn't really count the decades he had spent in cryo, after all.

Watching him play in the pool, Tony had to swallow down a sudden lump in his throat. He tried to blame the stinging in his eyes on the flying water, but knew it was really a deeply felt relief that Hydra, despite their best efforts, hadn't managed to warp Bucky into something dark and twisted. Even with his genetic connection to a man long dead, _this_ Bucky was a new, innocent soul, and he deserved to be allowed to be just that.

After a while Steve came over to join them, gamely letting Bucky gleefully splash water in his face.

They tried to teach Bucky to swim, but whatever his body was made up of was clearly not made to float, so they took turns carrying him around the pool until both Tony and Steve agreed that it was dinner time. Tony was starting to seriously prune, anyway.

Like on the way there, Steve had the honour of carrying Bucky back up to the house. But this time, Bucky wasn't quite on board. As soon as he realized that 'dinner time' meant he had to leave the pool, he drew up tight and displeased, gripping at the metal railing of the ladder when Steve went to climb them out of the water. Even if he let the restraining tentacles stretch long as Steve moved, they didn't want to entirely let go.

”You can come back again tomorrow, Bucky”, Steve promised him. ”Right, Tony?”

”Of course. And it's getting dark, anyway. It's not going to be as nice in the water, then.”

Bucky contracted even more, small and dense where he was hanging from Steve's back, eyes tightly closed in protest. But eventually he untangled his hold on the metal bars and coiled into a sulk.

Luckily, Bucky wasn't prone to moping for long. Once they were back at the house he went off to explore the rest of the rooms while Tony and Steve made themselves dinner. And by the time Tony was ready to go to bed, he was there as usual, sprawling wide and comfortable over the mattress until he could wrap himself around Tony as always, holding him close and safe through the night.

Waking up the next morning was different from how it usually was, on the other hand.

Tony rolled over on his back and stretched lazily between the soft sheets before he realized what was wrong. Then he blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling in confusion.

There were no tentacles holding on to him, no smooth, cool body molded to his. He was in fact, all alone in the bed, and that felt so wildly _wrong_ that he didn't know what to do for a moment.

Even though not that long ago, going to sleep and waking up alone had been the norm, now it threw everything he knew upside down.

Tony shoved the covers aside and sat up, so he could look around the room. It turned out to be just as empty as the bed, which didn't actually surprise him. It did make him feel even more like something was disturbingly wrong, though.

He got up, shoved his legs into a loose, thin pair of pajama pants, and hurried downstairs where the rich, smoky aroma of frying bacon told him that Steve was already up and making them breakfast. That, at least, was just like always.

”Hey, Cap.”

Steve didn't even turn from the stove at the greeting, but then he had probably heard Tony from a mile away. ”Morning, Shellhead.” He was still shirtless. As far as Tony was concerned, frying bacon shirtless was right up there with jumping out of airplanes without a 'chute.

”You don't happen to have seen a tentacle creature around here, by any chance? Mine seems to be missing.”

That did make Steve turn to smile at him over his shoulder. It looked like he wanted to make Tony's question into some sort of inappropriate joke – the kind that had Tony almost choking on his coffee in the days before he got to know Steve properly and realized what a _goddamn troll_ the man was – but then he noticed the look on Tony's face, and abruptly turned serious and concerned.

”No, I haven't, actually.”

Tony swallowed. ”JARVIS?”

”Sir, Bucky left the building about half an hour ago. From the direction he was moving, my guess would be that he was heading for -”

”The pool”, Tony groaned before JARVIS got the words out. Of course. He should have known.

”Just so, sir.”

Steve smiled again, and waved him on. ”Go get him. Breakfast is almost done.”

With a quick nod at that, Tony spun on his heel, hurried out, and jogged down the stairs to the pool.

Before he even reached the terrace, he had spotted the dark shape in the water. The sight almost made him lose his footing and tumble down the rest of the stone steps, but he managed to keep his balance.

Predictably, since he had the buoyancy of a not-very-small rock, Bucky was on the bottom of the pool. The clear, still water and the morning sunlight made it easy to see that he was spread out like a starfish down there. And he didn't seem to be moving.

”Bucky!”

Tony's shout elicited no reaction what so ever. Which _might_ be because Bucky couldn't hear him from down there, yeah, but Tony was not taking any fucking chances with that.

He didn't even hesitate as he hurried up to the edge, and leaped right into the deep end. Feeling the water close all around him didn't have any sort of relaxing effect today, even worse when it pressed down on his head from above. In his chest, his scarred heart was beating at a frantic, panicked pace, and part of him wanted to touch down on the bottom only long enough to kick him back to the surface for air _god he couldn't breathe what if he couldn't get back up what if he was drowning..._

But he made himself shove the dread aside as he forced his eyes open, ignored the sting of chlorine, and spotted the blurry, dark shape of Bucky against the light blue bottom of the pool.

The panic would be worth it if he could save _Bucky_ from drowning. His own fear was old and, in this case, irrational, and he was just far enough removed from the trauma to know it. Tony was perfectly capable of swimming back up to the surface, after all. Nothing was keeping him under.

Bucky couldn't swim, though. He was stuck down there.

One, two, three strokes was all it took for Tony to reach the bottom, and Bucky. He reached his arms out, intent on shoving them in under Bucky and tugging him up, but before he had the chance, tentacles met him half way and wrapped around his arms. Through the blur the water made of his eyesight, Tony hadn't seen Bucky move, and it had him both startled, and wildly relieved. 

He wasn't too late.

With a hard grip on two of the tentacles in turn, Tony planted his feet against the tiles, and forcefully pushed away, kicking at the water to bring them back up to the surface. Since Bucky was so light in here, he managed it without too much struggle, and once he had gasped down a few desperate breaths, Tony blinked away the water and awkwardy paddled them over to the closest ladder. Only then did he let go of Bucky, so that he could get a hand free and cling to the ladder, gaining the purchase he needed to lift Bucky at least partially out of the water.

”Buck? Oh my god are you alive? Please be alive you were moving down there at least so don't you dare be fucking dead I can't -”

Bucky's eyes flying wide open cut Tony's increasingly distressed rambling off. There was something distressed going on in Bucky's eyes, too, but Tony wasn't sure if it was panic at having almost drowned, or something else. At least his tentacles came up, dripping with water, to wrap around Tony's back and shoulders, patting nervously at his wet hair, stroking it out of his forehead when Bucky noticed the water dripping into his eyes and making him blink the burn away.

”Tony?” Steve was at the edge of the pool. He must have heard Tony shout and come running to investigate. ”You allright?”

”Yeah, I think we're okay”, Tony panted, feeling shaky and weak as a kitten when the adrenaline drained right out of his muscles, taking everything with it. Suddenly, holding on to both the ladder and Bucky seemed impossible. ”Could you... um...?”

Before he even got the embarrassing request out, Steve was darting around the corner of the pool. ”I got you.” He came down on a knee by the ladder, gripped the railing with one hand, and then reached down to loop his free arm under both of Tony's, around his chest, and then he hauled both him and Bucky right out of the water. Like they weighed nothing.

He set Tony down on his feet as soon as he got them upright, but thankfully didn't let go, because Tony's knees were anything but steady.

Bucky seemed to be fully on board with the not letting go, because he instantly grabbed on to Steve as well, plastering him to Tony's wet back, so Bucky could hug them both at once.

”Christ”, Tony felt Steve breathe against the side of his head. ”What happened?”

Trembling slightly, Tony struggled for words. ”Found him on the bottom.”

”Shit.” That about summed it up, Tony decided. ”Okay, let's get back inside so Bucky can tell us what happened.”

Sad, blue-gray eyes blinked up at them from Tony's chest.

Tony sighed. ”Yeah, let's do that.”

Bucky obediently shifted himself around until he was backpacking on Steve again, while Steve got an arm around Tony's back, Tony's closest hand gripping Steve's shoulder in turn. And like that, all of them got safely up the long stairway, and back into the kitchen area. Steve ignored the actual kitchen, however, and steered them to the nearby bathroom instead.

There, he grabbed a bath towel from a shelf, shook it out with his free hand as he turned Tony around, and lowered him onto the toilet seat. When he had both his hands, he carefully rubbed Tony's hair dry, patted the water drops off his shoulders, arms and chest, and then ground to a halt at the soaked pants. In that state, it was sort of obvious that Tony wasn't wearing anything underneath.

”I... um... think we should get those off”, Steve pointed out, blushing, as he awkwardly draped the now slightly damp towel over Tony's lap.

Tony huffed, too exhausted to feel embarrassed at the moment. It would probably catch up later. ”Yeah”, he sighed, and with heavy arms wrapped the towel around his waist so he could get up, and with Steve's shyly fumbling help, get his sopping wet pants off. It did feel better to be out of them, Tony had to admit that much.

From his perch on Steve's back, Bucky watched the whole exchange from over his shoulder, tense and wary-looking.

They left the bathroom for the kitchen, Tony still supported against Steve's side even though he was at least slightly more steady on his feet now. By the table, Tony let himself collapse into a chair, while Steve motioned for Bucky to get off his back, and down on the table.

Slowly, Bucky did as asked. As he went, he carefully pushed aside the silverware Steve must have already laid out for breakfast. And then he gave them a soft, wet, puppy-eyed look before he gestured for his keyboard.

SORRY, he tapped out, though the word was sort of unnecessary given the way he was slumped into a devastated droop on the polished wood. SORRY SORRY SORRY

”Hey.” Tony leaned forward, an elbow supported on the edge of the table, and curled the other arm around Bucky's tense, contracted shape. ”I'm not mad, okay? You just scared the everloving shit out of me out there. I thought you were... just...” Tony had to blink away a new stinging in his eyes. Damn pool water. ”Please never do that again?”

Bucky gave a anxious bob of agreement under his arm, and even rubbed up against it like an affectionate cat. I LIKED THE WATER, he wrote in contrite explanation.

”I know”, Tony murmured. ”And we can go swimming again. I promise. But bring me along next time, okay? Save me the panic attack?”

With another quick bob, Bucky started to relax a little bit, softening and spreading over the table.

”Tony said you were on the bottom”, Steve piped up. ”How'd you breathe down there?”

With an almost confused blink up at him, Bucky made an indistinct, undulating movement that might have been a sort of shrug. BREATHE?

Tony coughed out a startled, choked laugh. ”Fuck me. Of course you don't breathe, either. I should have guessed.” His giddy giggling felt more than halfway to sobbing in awful relief, so he tipped forward over the table until his forehead rested against the softness of Bucky's malleable body. ”I need a drink.”

”No, you don't”, Steve decided, and ruffled a hand through his damp hair. ”I've got just the thing, though.”

Then he moved away, there was some shuffling and clattering, and when he gently poked Tony's shoulder to make him sit back up, a plate of fried bacon and scrambled eggs magically appeared in front of him.

”It's been sitting around a bit longer than I'd like, but it's still okay, I think.”

While Tony was taking in the sight of his breakfast, one of Bucky's tentacles came into view from his right. Holding Tony's fork.

He smiled crookedly at the huge eyes aimed at his, still filled with regret, as he accepted the utensil. ”Thanks, buddy.”

And yeah, the food was still definitely more than okay.

Once they had eaten, and Tony had managed to get more properly dressed in a t-shirt and some sweatpants (and underwear, thank you very much), he found himself hesitating in the middle of the reception room at the foot of the stairs. No longer sure what he wanted to do with the day. He was still shaky and exhausted and didn't feel up to much of anything, to be honest.

Tony had no idea how long he had stood around there when Steve, with Bucky on his back, found him.

”Hey, there you are.” He smiled and wrapped his arm around Tony's shoulders, leading him away.

”Where we going?” Tony didn't resist, though, just followed along.

”Figured we'd all had about enough of outside adventures for now, so I think we should just stay inside and do nothing the rest of the day.”

”Really?” Through narrowed eyes, Tony threw him a doubtful look. ”Who are you, and where is Steve Rogers?”

”On vacation”, Steve shot back smoothly, and smirking.

Tony snorted. ”Touché, Captain.”

And that was how they all ended up on the giant couch in front of the mansion's biggest TV screen, with the extended versions of the Lord of the Rings trilogy running, just because it was easy and familiar.

At least to Tony and Steve. Bucky was seeing it all for the first time, and predictably got excited about the fight against the huge tentacle monster outside the Doors of Moria.

”Good thing you're not that big”, Tony pointed out. He teasingly poked Bucky's body where it was draped over his lap, and watched his finger disappear to the second knuckle. ”Couch cuddles would be out of the question.”

Bucky reached up to pat a flattened tentacle tip over his mouth, in a _'oh shut up, you'_ gesture that Tony just grinned behind.

”He's right though, Buck.” Steve sounded amused. He was sitting next to them, feet up on the coffee table. ”You'd definitely miss out.”

That's when Tony realized that maybe Steve didn't only sound amused. There was something faintly wistful under the smiling surface, barely noticeable, but there.

It seemed like he wasn't the only one to notice, either, because Bucky stilled on top of him for a moment. Then he took his tentacle from Tony's mouth, and shuffled off his lap so he landed in the gap between them on the seats. With half his many limbs still wrapped and coiled securely around Tony, he reached the rest out in Steve's direction. Hesitant at first, but when there was nothing but a surprised blink from Steve, he moved in for real and looped the soldier up just as tightly.

Done, he slumped down on the cushion, melting into a happy puddle. His eyes narrow, satisified slits, aimed at the screen.

Tony stared at him for a stumped moment. Then he looked up, to find Steve doing the same, before his eyes slid over to meet Tony's. A little wide, a little vulnerable, but carefully hopeful.

”Yeah”, Tony drawled, relaxing back in his seat, patting a tentacle resting across his chest, and smiled at Steve. ”Wouldn't want anyone missing out.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Incomplete and In-No-Particular-Order List of Things Bucky Likes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed the rating of this thing to T, because there is a hint of sexual content happening here. (No, not tentacle porn, this is not that kind of story.)

**Movie nights**

Ever since one of the first times Bucky had gotten properly up close and personal with Tony, he'd had a soft spot for movie nights.

Movies in themselves rarely captured his interest. They only spoke to his sight and hearing, and the rest of his senses tended to distract him from the often too flimsy stories being told. He very much preferred to focus on the other aspect of movie night – cuddling. 

If it was just him and Tony, he mostly spent the night as Tony's blanket on the couch, listened to his running commentary on the movie, and melted into a rippling puddle of pleasure under Tony's stroking hands.

If they had company? Well, a lot of the time it was kind of the same, to be honest. Bucky wasn't as comfortable around most of Tony's team as he was with just Tony, even though he wasn't hiding from them anymore.

Steve was one exception. After the day they'd all spent together on the couch in Malibu, Bucky had felt easy about snuggling up to him, too. Steve didn't talk as much during movies, but he had very clever hands, and his fingertips absently traced complicated patterns of spirals and stars on Bucky's skin, until he felt almost hypnotized, and every other sensory input faded to the background for a while.

Bucky thought it was the closest thing he'd ever get to falling asleep.

The other exception, was Peter. Curious and unafraid, the boy had coaxed the same qualities out of Bucky from the first time they met. 

It wasn't really possible to cuddle with Peter, however. Unlike the adults, he had too much restless energy in his bones to sit still and do only one thing at a time. He shifted around in his seat a lot, and sometimes didn't stay in it at all, but instead dropped to the floor or perched on the back. 

Often he divided his attentions between the movie and a book, or a stack of homework once school had started again, and since Bucky wasn't invested in the plot on screen anyway, he joined in. Draped over the back of Peter's seat, he'd read over his shoulder, picking up Spanish vocabulary and marveling at math that looked otherworldly to Bucky.

So cuddling was out, but that didn't stop Bucky from playing with Peter's unruly hair, and the boy often toyed with one of his tentacles while he was reading, absently winding it between his fingers, or squeezing it in his unexpectedly strong palm.

”Bucky's not your stress ball, kid”, Tony had pointed out the first time it happened, amused more than anything, but with a glance at Bucky that indicated he wouldn't hesitate for a moment to actually put a stop to it if Bucky seemed the least bit uncomfortable.

”Sure thing, Mr. Stark”, Peter murmured, never taking his eyes off the page of his history book, probably not really registering a word Tony had said. And kept right on squeezing Bucky's tentacle in his hand.

Bucky didn't mind. It was grounding for him too, in a way. Gave his senses something to focus on.

So he'd just reached out along the back of the couch, to pat Tony's cheek and show that he was good, and it had turned into a new normal.

Bucky approved.  


* * *

**James Rhodes**

To be honest, they did sort of start off on the wrong foot.

Rhodes had showed up unannounced, and found Tony and Bucky in the workshop, where Tony was working on upgrades to his suit. Bucky was sprawled on his worktable, 'helping' by alternating between reaching out to give the little holographic version of Iron Man a flick that sent him spinning around in the air, and tossing pieces of scrap metal across the floor for DUM-E and U to fetch.

When the doors slid open, both Tony and Bucky turned around to see who it was.

Bucky found himself slightly alarmed to be facing a complete stranger for the first time in a long time. One wearing a dangerously dark scowl and looking ready to reach for a gun, at that.

The only thing that made Bucky not immediately turn threatening in turn, was the fact that Tony had spun around and shot out of his chair, arms wide, his whole body beaming with pleasure at seeing the man who had just stepped through the doors to his sanctuary. But then he picked up on the hostile vibe too, and the weight he had started shifting forward to go greet the visitor, rocked back hesitantly on his heels.

”Hey, Rhodey?”

”Tony.” The man's tone was tense. ”What is that?”

”Huh?” Tony was genuinely confused for a moment, but then he glanced at Bucky, huddled tight on the table. ”Oh!” He turned back to face the newcomer. ”I told you I had a new roommate, right?”

”But somehow failed to mention that the new roommate is a tentacle monster?” He wasn't exactly relaxing, but the worst of the edge of protective lashing out was receding.

”Yeah, about that?” Tony rubbed the back of his neck with a little wince. ”We try to stay away from the M-word. It's sort of rude.”

The man stared at Tony, mouthing the word 'rude' to himself before he shook his head and then dropped it forward into his hands. When he looked up again, his face had smoothed out a bit, and something distantly related to a smile was teasing at his lips.

”So. New roommate?”

Tony bounced a little, excitement flooding back in. ”Yep”, he confirmed, popping the P. ”Come on up, and say hi to Bucky. He's awesome, too. You'll get along great.”

And somehow, they had.

Rhodes had hesitantly come up to the table and after a little prodding from Tony, offered up a hand. Bucky had moved slowly, carefully but steadily wrapping it up and giving it a shake.

Tony, bubbling over with words and eager gestures, told Rhodes the basics of the story of how Bucky had ended up in the Tower, and how well he was getting along with the team.

Over the afternoon and evening, as Tony took them both to the penthouse for dinner and lazing around on the couch, Rhodes kept eyeing Bucky slightly warily. But as the hours passed he first watched Bucky climbing around the kitchen to open cupboards and drawers to hand Tony cooking utensils and dishes to serve up pasta and tomato sauce on, and then cuddle with him on the couch, and gradually he became more and more relaxed.

Later in the evening, when Tony excused himself for the bathroom, Bucky ended up alone on the couch with Rhodes.

There was an empty seat between them, but Bucky still slipped half his tentacles in under the throw pillows and seat cushions in his corner, huddling tight to make himself small and non-threatening. But it didn't seem entirely necessary, because the look Rhodes aimed at him was just softly thoughtful, now.

”You really care about him a lot.”

It wasn't really a question, so Bucky just gave him a slow blink.

That seemed enough, because the man continued talking. ”I haven't seen him this relaxed and at peace in years. He volunatrily ate a proper meal, he looks rested, he's not drinking, and he seems... happy.”

Pleased to hear it, Bucky flattened.

”Are you happy around him? I mean, he can probably tell that you are, or he wouldn't be this content, but I can't, so...”

Bucky quickly pushed himself off the seat enough to give a little bob of agreement. So very happy.

At last, Rhodes smiled at him, wide enough to show very white teeth. It changed his whole demeanor into something warm and welcoming.

”That's great, man. We need more people on Team Tony.” And with that, he reached a hand out toward Bucky, fist closed and knuckles out.

Once it would have completely confused Bucky, but now he knew what it meant, largely thanks to Peter, who often shared the gesture with both Tony and Bruce if he was feeling particularly relaxed around them, and something went particularly right doing science. So Bucky freed a tentacle, knotted the end into a fist-sized ball, and gently bumped it against the man's hand.

_'Team Tony'_. He liked the sound of that.  


* * *

**Steve Rogers**

Since he was created from the metaphorical rib of James Buchanan Barnes, loving Steve Rogers had been something more or less programmed into Bucky's very being from the start. His default mode.

Which was why meeting him for the first time had been so terrifying. Bucky couldn't help but love him, on some deeply ingrained level. But Steve could take one proper look at him and decide to hate him, for what he was – and who he wasn't.

Now, though, Bucky knew that even without that history carried around in his genes, he would have still liked Steve. A lot. It would have been difficult to avoid. The man was made up of stubborn principles and soft gentleness, all of it wrapped up in warm earnestness, like a hug. He was hesitantly careful about handling Bucky in a way Tony wasn't anymore, but it wasn't because of dislike or distaste. It was all kindness.

Bucky noticed that Steve handled his teammates in much the same way, actually, and figured that it was because he knew he was so much stronger than them. He couldn't really have injured Bucky even if he actively tried, but Bucky was happy to accept the gentleness. It felt as soft on his insides as on his skin, and he couldn't help but bask in it, like sunshine.

The steel spine of Steve's stubbornness showed in his interactions with Tony, rather than Bucky, but of course, Bucky was around to see it happen. And it amazed him how two people who so intimately shared goals and morals, who admired and respected each other as much as Steve and Tony did, could also clash so frequently.

At first it frightened him. The raised voices and the sharp gestures and heavy glares. Bucky worried they would come to blows. That he'd see everything they was together tear itself apart right in front of him. But the longer he watched them, often hidden behind something solid, just in case, the clearer it became that it wasn't what it seemed.

Their head-butting and arguing wasn't grounded in anger or resentment. They weren't teetering on the edge of violence. Frustration could sneak in on either side at times, but through it all, they still respected and admired each other just as much. They still shared goals, but at so many twists and turns, they saw different paths lead to the same goal. Or sometimes even the very same path, but cast in such different light that they didn't realize it until they had been shouting at each other for a good hour.

After it was all said and done, they went to work, shoulder to shoulder, as tight-knit as ever.

Bucky came to accept it as the way it was. That, somehow, they both made each other better, in the end.

And if he made a point of dragging Steve and Tony just a bit more snug together on the couch the night after one of their arguments, wrapping them up unsubtly tight in his tentacles so they had no choice but to lean heavily into each other, Steve's arm going around Tony's shoulders in the cramped space Bucky created for them, then so what?

Bucky had his own stubborn principles, after all.

When he wasn't arguing with Tony or working with his team, though, Steve seemed sort of lonely. 

He worked out, alone. Sat, alone, by a window to sketch the city below, or people he remembered.

Bucky didn't like that. So he took it upon himself to regularly seek Steve out and see if he wanted some company.

Steve never turned him away, but initially seemed a bit bemused at the offer of company, like it was a new thing.

After a while, he usually forgot that Bucky was even there, but he always gave a happily surprised smile when he turned his head to find that Bucky was still around.

On a day when Steve was drawing by the window, Bucky hanging above him to look at the view outside, Bucky happened to glance down at the portrait taking shape under Steve's hands, and then he couldn't seem to make himself look away again. 

It was mostly a study of a face, with just the hint of the crisp lines of collars by the neck, and the jaunty angle of some sort of hat above the neat hair. It was a man, with thick brows above smiling eyes, which Steve's pencil had turned light gray. Strong jaw, cleft chin, a full mouth curved up in a way that hinted at a teasing smirk.

”You sort of have his eyes, you know.”

Bucky froze up at the sudden words. Both because Steve had caught him sneaking a peek – which wasn't that surprising, since he had realized Steve had very keen senses of his own – and because it was the first time he had ever mentioned the human Bucky from his past.

Sadly, Bucky couldn't claim to know that he had his eyes. Even though he had parts of the man's memories, he had never had a clear image of what James Barnes had looked like. He did now, but he also wasn't sure enough about his own appearance to be able to see any similarities, even when presented with a reference. So he just stayed there, staring at the delicate sketch.

”I'm glad you do”, Steve went on, eyes still on the paper in front of him. ”It breaks my heart that he's gone. Probably will, every day of my life. But I'm real happy there is at least a part of him left in the world.” He tipped his head back and looked up at Bucky with a sad, fractured sort of smile on his face. ”A really good part.”

And right then Bucky couldn't imagine doing anything but lower himself down off the ceiling, drape himself all over Steve, and wrap him up in a long, tight hug.

So he did.  


* * *

**Water**

The visit to Malibu made Bucky realize that water was _the best thing_.

It was like a giant body wrapped all around him, snug and close and holding him together. Cool and smooth against his entire skin. And even if he couldn't float like the humans, it made him feel lighter in an exhilirating way.

Tony and Steve had to try to drag him away from the pool when it was time to go back to New York, and he hadn't given in until Tony had hugged him tight, and murmured against his wet skin.

”Hey, Tangles, did you know that there's a pool back at the Tower, too?”

Bucky had stilled at that.

”Yeah. Even bigger than this one, even.”

Bucky flared in excitement.

”Now that I know how you feel about swimming, I'll show you where it is. Promise.”

Finally, Bucky had let go of the edge of the pool and let himself be carried back to the quinjet. Still sulking a little at the loss of ocean air and sunshine, but not too badly.

Tony had been true to his word, of course. He'd taken Bucky to the pool almost as soon as they had touched down back home, and it actually was a lot bigger than the one in Malibu.

Tentacles flat in happiness, Bucky had taken a moment to give Tony's closest leg a tight, grateful hug, before he had eagerly slithered off to the pool, and immediately dropped himself down into the water.

He hadn't come back up for _hours_.

Bucky had decided that showers were also great.

Water spraying from above didn't feel as good as the pool, but he really enjoyed spreading himself all over the tiled walls of Tony's shower to feel the heavy, hot steam all around him, and the rich, sweet, complex scents of the many different things Tony washed himself with. And the fact that he could reach out any time he wanted to feel Tony's bare, warm, wet skin.

Evening showers were the best, because then Tony would come to bed still naked, still deliciously warm, hair damp, smelling strongly of both artificial scents, and himself, feeling loose and languid in Bucky's embrace.

Water was _brilliant_.  


* * *

**Working out**

When Bucky started spending time around Steve, it was inevitable that he ended up also spending more time in the Tower's huge, exceptionally well-equipped gym.

”It's kind of funny”, Tony commented on Steve's gym habits once. ”Out of all of us, he needs it least, because the serum would keep him fit even if he slacked a bit, but he's the one who spends most of his time in there.”

After keeping Steeve company while he worked out a few times however, Bucky felt sure it wasn't that much about physical fitness to Steve. It was routine and ritual, focus and meditation. Very much the same things Tony found in his workshop, even when he didn't have anything that strictly needed to be tinkered with.

Unlike Tony's work though, Bucky could help Steve out in the gym. Sort of.

At first he mostly watched, and explored all the equipment. Here, he knew he didn't have to be careful and keep his tentacles away from something fragile that might break under his touches. He still loved being in the workshop and the lab, listening and watching, but he was by nature tactile and curious, and being able to learn about the world through his own senses held its own kind of satisfaction. So he was happy to map the layout of machines, racks of weights and dumbbells, and heavy bags suspended from sturdy metal frames.

The mechanics of everything was easy enough to figure out. Push or pull on that bit, cables do their thing, and that bit moves. There was something solid and logical and basic about it that Bucky liked, and he thought Steve did too. In here, he didn't have to think, or act, or react, just do.

Steve never used any of the machines, and after watching him a while Bucky figured that they wouldn't hold up to him, or offer enough resistance to be worth his time. He used the free weights instead, worked at the heavy bags, or went running on the treadmills.

”It feels a bit silly”, Steve told him the first time Bucky spotted him getting on the latter. ”Just running and running and never getting anywhere. I like it better when I can go outside, but, well, it sort of attracts attention.”

Bucky could understand why Steve wouldn't want that when he was doing something to take himself out of his head a bit.

It was soothing to be around Steve while he worked out.

Once Bucky had stopped just watching and started offering his help, the best days were when Steve had worked up enough of a sweat to decide to tug his shirt off and keep going without it. Soon, Steve had stopped wearing a shirt altogether, just because he knew Bucky preferred it.

It started on the treadmill, actually.

Steve had been on there for a while, long enough to toss his shirt. Bucky was clinging to the bar at the side of the machine, steadying himself against the main control panel, and impulsively decided to reach a tentacle out to touch Steve's arm. Just to see how he felt like this. Even from here he could smell the salty hint of sweat and feel the heat coming off Steve, see the flush all over his fair skin. But he wanted to touch, too.

The movement of his tentacle caught Steve's eye, and he glanced to the side to see what was going on. Bucky cowered a little, tentacle frozen in the air, feeling caught in the act. The long process of building trust with Tony had taught him a lot about consent. It was something he'd known was important already, since his own had been violated so often and in so many ways by Hydra, but he hadn't had words for, or a detailed understanding of the concept.

Sure, he spent a lot of time sprawled all over Steve on the couch these days, but this felt subtly different. Maybe it was all that bare skin on display? Bucky preferred it that way, but he had also come to realize that to humans, naked skin didn't only mean intimacy, but also vulnerability.

Instead of objecting or questioning his actions, Steve just smiled. And when Bucky still stayed frozen, he gave a little nod of permission.

Bucky didn't need more than that. He unfroze, flowed back into motion, and reached out to wrap a slightly flattened tentacle around Steve's upper arm. Not too tight or restricting, since the arm was moving, swinging easily with Steve's long steps, but just to feel. The heat of working muscles was more intense like that, the smell of fresh sweat was clearer when Bucky could also 'taste' it through his pores, raw and salty, like the smell of the ocean. He couldn't resist rubbing the tip of his tentacle against the skin, feeling how slick it was.

Steve threw him another smile, soft and amused, so Bucky gave in to what he really wanted to do. He used the grip around Steve's arm for purchase as he pushed himself up on the sidebar, and with a quick, swinging motion, he moved himself onto Steve's back. Plastered to his spine and ribs, secured with limbs hooked over his shoulders and around his waist, Bucky could feel almost every single muscle in Steve's upper body working. His shoulder muscles moving his arms, his abdominals stretching and contracting with every step, his entire back bunching and rippling under Bucky's skin.

He felt the steady, even, only slightly elevated thumping of Steve's heart, the ribcage flexing rhythmically with the expansion and emptying of his lungs.

”You feel a bit like my old pack, back in the army”, Steve said after a while, not even a little out of breath. ”Lot more comfortable, though.”

Bucky couldn't help flattening a little. He was glad Steve thought he was comfortable, because he sure felt comfortable right there.

He got more up in Steve's business after that, feeling bold, and one day when Steve was loading weights onto a long metal bar suspended over a bench, Bucky was there to stick his tentacles into what Steve was doing. There were a lot of weights on the bar, and when Bucky climbed onto it, wrapping himself around the middle, he noticed it wasn't like the other bars in the gym. A different texture, a slightly lighter colour.

Curious, he blinked up at Steve when he seemed ready to get on the bench.

”Yeah”, he said with a faint smile, sensing the question, ”I kinda broke a couple bars. Then Tony made me this one. He muttered something about 'the most expensive piece of gym equipment in the history of the world' and, honestly? I was sort of afraid to ask what it's made of.”

Then he sat down, stretched out on his back, and reached for the bar.

Bucky quickly retracted until he was out of the way of where Steve wanted to place his hands, but he didn't climb off. Hee just stayed there, adding a bit of extra weight as Steve raised and lowered the bar.

It was a little like flying.  


* * *

**Tony Stark**

Even if there were many things and people Bucky felt strongly about these days, the absolute center of it all was still Tony. Bucky wouldn't have the life he had if not for Tony, who had given Bucky a chance to show his peaceful intentions, instead of fucusing entirely on hunting him down and destroying him. Bucky wasn't sure he could be destroyed – Hydra had definitely done their best once they couldn't control him – but he thought that if anyone could figure out a way to permanently get rid of him, at least, it would have been Tony.

He was happy they would never have to find out.

Instead, Tony had realized that they were both lonely and touch-starved and in need of comfort. And they still gave each other company, and all the cuddling and comfort they could ever possibly need.

Tony had given him words to communicate with, too. Even if Bucky didn't use them as much as he had initially thought he would. Tony understood him exceptionally well, and Steve and Peter weren't half-bad at it either. Bucky had also made an effort to adopt a body language that was more 'human friendly', like making a little bob with his central body that most of his humans immediately understood as a nod. But he still had his own behaviours and gestures that came instinctively to him, and those were what he mostly used.

Tony found that fact _absolutely fascinating_ rather than annoying.

”How does that even work?” He usually rambled about the scientific mysteries and impossibilities of Bucky's existence to him, never expecting answers. ”It's not like you're one of a whole species, so you can't exactly have learned it. And we don't know what genetic material makes you up, because it's too fragmented, so there is probably a whole mix of different markers telling you what to do. The fact that all of that, blended together, even gave you a body and a mind that wants to communicate and show emotions is kind of amazing.”

Bucky actually thought so too. Especially considering the fact that Hydra had wanted the opposite. They had wanted him to be a mindless, soulless mass that would just execute their orders. Bucky being a _person_ had foiled their plans, all on its own.

He couldn't claim he wasn't sort of proud of that fact.

Tony saw him for the person he was, behind the tentacles, accepted him just as he was, and had let Bucky into his own life, unreservedly.

Bucky didn't entirely grasp how unreservedly, until one day when Bucky joined Tony for his morning shower. That in itself wasn't unusual, but there was something about Tony this particular morning that felt... off. Not in a distinctly bad way, but there was something about him Bucky didn't recognize. Something that wasn't exactly tension, but some sort of unfamiliar energy coiled just under his skin.

Once properly under the hot spray of water, face tipped up and fingers raking through his wet hair, Tony didn't seem to relax. If anything, that almost electric buzzing around him got stronger.

Tony turned around a little, wiped at his face, and then blinked at Bucky where he was plastered to the tile. His eyelashes heavy with droplets of water, and his pupils unusally dilated. Bucky had a brief moment to worry if he was somehow unwell, if that was what Bucky had been picking up on since Tony stirred awake.

”Hey, Bucks, something's come up that I need to... handle?” He blinked again, and then chuckled a little at himself with a headshake. As he forced himself semi-serious again, his eyes seemed to drop and linger on his erection, but then he looked at Bucky again, eyes still crinkled up with the remains of his mirth, so Bucky let his worry fade away. ”The thing is, I'm really horny, and I'm planning on using my time in the shower to jerk off, and take care of that.”

Now it was Bucky's turn to blink. It took him a few moments to connect the dots, but he did have a distant memory of sexual arousal that he could fit Tony's physical state and words into, and make sense of the situation. So he bobbed his understanding.

”If you want, you can go hang out somewhere else. If you're not comfortable being around for this.”

Uncertain of what _Tony_ wanted, Bucky stayed frozen in place.

Most likely guessing at what he was thinking, Tony smiled at him. ”I'm just fine with you staying. Not like I'm ashamed or anything. But it's something we haven't really discussed, so I don't exactly know how you feel about my... well, sex life. It's just been me for a while, but it's not something I'm ready to give up.” He had turned more serious as he spoke, but he didn't seem distressed at all. ”I'm not going to expose you to it against your will, though.”

Tony wasn't sick. He'd be all right. He was just concerned about Bucky reacting badly to him being himself, taking care of his needs. Bucky flattened himself a little against the steam-wet tile, relaxing. He wasn't worried about that.

”Okay, so, looks like you're staying?”

Bucky signalled a yes. He wasn't bothered, and, more than anything else, he was curious.

Tony just nodded back. He planted his left hand against the wall next to the shower's controls and pipes, leaned in a little so that the spray of water hit his shoulders, the back of his head and neck, and then reached down in front of himself with his right, and started stroking himself with easy, practiced motions. A little slow and steady at first, then a little faster, turning rougher as his breathing got more laboured, hitching in his chest.

That energy Bucky had noticed before was swelling, filling the steamy space, so tangible he almost thought he could smell and taste it. 

He couldn't resist shuffling sideways on the wall a little, to get a better view. Tony's eyes were tightly closed, anyway, he wouldn't notice. His mouth was open, jaw hanging slack as water dripped off the tip of his nose and his bearded chin. He seemed lost in his own world, a heated flush that looked like pleasure blooming across his cheeks and chest.

Those far removed, disconnected memories of arousal and libido were not quite enough for Bucky to understand what it was Tony was feeling right now, specifically. He just had faint sensory memories that told him it was _good_ , and he trusted them.

The closest he could get was that rippling, fluttering, contented feeling when his insides scattered wide and his body flared flat, as he soaked up affectionate touches against his sensitive skin. Sunshine warmth. The lightness of being swallowed up by water.

All the good things he knew were sensory, because his entire life was sensory. 

Bucky had no needs besides sensory stimulation and fulfillment. Warmth, softness, touch, gentle kindness, smells, tastes, sounds of voices and laughter.

He didn't know hunger. He was never tired. He had no drive to reproduce (he wasn't sure he even could), and therefore no sexual drive, either. He didn't have goals or aspirations beyond feeling good, and making his humans feel good, as well as he could – in a sense, he was a very hedonistic creature.

So no, Bucky couldn't quite understand, but Tony had taught him a lot about acceptance, had led by example and showed him that _understanding_ wasn't needed to _accept_. Tony had thrown himself into learning as much about Bucky as he could, but he happily admitted that he knew only a fraction of how Bucky actually worked. And that had never stopped him from wanting to make sure Bucky was satisfied, cared for, and happy.

Bucky didn't fully grasp how Tony worked, either. But he wanted all the same things for him, in turn.

Under the shower, Tony's movements sped up, suddenly turned jerky and almost harsh, before his back bowed under the force of strange, deep spasms working their way through his body. He even stopped breathing for a little while, before a groan slipped over his lips. From his erection, twitching faintly in his hand, spurted a milky white fluid. It was washed away by the shower almost at once – and Bucky suspected that was the practical reason for taking care of things right here – but the scent of the substance lingered a little. Heavy with minerals and protein, a hint of metal, something earthy, like mushrooms. Not unpleasant.

With a long breath Tony straightened up, shook himself a little, and stroked his hair out of his forehead. His movements were slow and languid and easy, his energy feeling settled and smooth again. Then he turned to look at Bucky, and gave a surprised blink when he found him much closer than before. But then he just smiled, unbothered.

”Well, that's exactly what I needed”, he said, voice a hint rougher than usual under the dopey smile. ”We all good, Limbs?”

Now, Bucky could have just bobbed a nod in response. But some part of him dragged up a memory from the first time he had met Peter, connected it to some much older, deeper, fragmented memories of pretty girls and suggestive smiles and innuendo. And so instead, he very deliberately met Tony's eyes, and then he _winked_.

Tony's lips parted in surprise as he stared at Bucky wordlessly for a moment. And then he cracked up in a deep, resounding, full body laugh, complete with giggles and grabbing at his abdomen.

”You are something else, Bucky”, he chuckled once the worst of it was over, a huge grin still on his face. ”No wonder I love you.”

Suddenly, it was Bucky's turn to go slack in surprise. No one had ever told him something like that. But hearing it, feeling it settle deep inside, and reflect right back off of the warmth in there that was all for Tony, was one of the best things he had ever felt. 

Wide-eyed and awed, he tugged two tentacles on opposite sides of his body free from the tile, reached out, and reeled Tony in. Until his warm, happy, naked body was flush up against Bucky's by the wall. That might not be entirely comfortable, but Tony just pressed closer, smiled with his whole being, and placed a gentle kiss right by the slits of Bucky's closed eyes.

”Guess the feeling's mutual, huh?”

Bucky went as flat as he ever had in answer, knowing he would be both understood, and accepted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised another chapter after this one, but I can't get it to cooperate, so rather than post something I'm not happy with, I'm letting this stand as completed. Maybe some day I'll get back to it, so feel free to subscribe if you aren't willing to give up hope entirely (like me...), but for the foreseeable future I'm leaving this as it is. Thanks for reading and loving on this! Never thought you would enjoy tentacle monster Bucky as much as I have.


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